It Was the Year of Fire
by 88Ivories
Summary: Like many others here, when I started watching Supernatural, I imagined a third person on this journey, and a woman's touch. Meet Jen. She's Sam's best friend from college, who ends up knowing more about Sam than he ever expected.
1. Pilot, part 1

**Author's thoughts: There always seem to be forces against the Winchester Brothers, but what if they had one additional helping hand instead? This series of stories from the beginning of the show is something like a cross between a romance and a sis-fic without actually containing either a romantic interest or a sister. It does, however, contain Sam's best friend from college, and, although she doesn't do much on the cases, it's nice to have someone to come "home" to at the end of the day. If you are interested in a new twist on a non-romantic OFC, along with a lot of angst, some H/C (emphasis on the comfort), lots of emotion, and something to fill in a few odd gaps, perhaps this is the story for you.**

**Some notes:**

**Being the introductory chapters, the first three (two Pilot and Wendigo) will have some additional elements to bring my OFC into the story. This includes many more flashbacks than I usually use and more actual Show dialogue than you will find in the future. In future stories, they are almost exclusively missing scenes and tags.**

**I had been working on this series previously and then removed all the stories in favor of a complete rewrite. If you happen to recall the originals, don't give away any details in reviews, as I made changes that should create interesting twists.**

**I'm planning to post these about when they happened in the timeline of the show. I'm starting on November 1st.**

**Thanks for giving me a shot!**

* * *

[Present: October 2005]

Sam turned to Jess with a smile. "What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn." Jess replied, grabbing Sam for a kiss.

A voice shattered the moment. "Apparently I got here just in time for the cutesy part."

Sam blushed as Jess turned to the dark-haired girl who had just walked up to them and gave her a hug. "Jen, you made it!" She exclaimed.

"I wouldn't miss Sam's victory celebration for anything." She eyed the table for a moment. "Although it seems I'm a bit behind."

Sam chuckled. "No worries. There may be more shots coming, whether we want them or not." Jen smiled.

"Luis's here?"

Both Sam and Jess laughed and nodded. Jen sighed. "Okay, let me see if I can save all our livers." Jen turned to Sam. "But, really, you did great." She gave him a quick hug. "I knew you would."

Sam replied. "Thanks. For everything."

Jen turned away and headed toward the bar.

"If I didn't know better, I'd be terribly jealous." Jess said with raised eyebrows across the table.

Sam gave Jess a skeptical look. "If you were that worried, Jen wouldn't be living with us."

"Last time I checked, she was living with me first. You just crashed the party."

"Well, then. Maybe I'm the one who should be jealous. My girlfriend and my best friend plotting behind my back?" Sam gave Jess a sly smile, which she returned with a playful laugh.

"Only in your dreams, baby."

As a matter of fact, Sam couldn't imagine college without Jen. Especially since they met the very first day.

* * *

[August 2002]

Sam looked around at the classroom, people already occupying about half of the seats. He had only arrived at Stanford yesterday, and had about enough time to unpack his few belongings and get some sleep before waking up early for orientation. He had cut the travel time close, and relying on public transportation had almost made him late. He didn't have another choice. It wasn't as if Dad or Dean were going to just drop him off.

He had briefly met his roommate, but brushed him off without much more than an introduction saying that he was beat from travel. Technically, that was true. Not that he actually got much sleep. They both got up early for orientation and went in different directions. Sam's first possible interaction successfully avoided. That was the part of college Sam was the most worried about. What could he say about his life, his family? He didn't want to lie, but he couldn't exactly tell the truth either.

Sam took a seat in the back row, corner, near the window. No one was in that corner yet. Most of the people in the room were in the front two rows. Sam supposed he should expect a lot of overachievers at Stanford. A moment later, a girl walked over and took the seat in front of him. She didn't look at Sam at all. From behind, all Sam could see was her long, straight, very dark hair. She took out a small notebook and leaned over it writing something. For a moment, Sam thought she seemed familiar. He dismissed the thought. The room continued to fill.

The young man standing near the front of the room finally quieted everybody and began the orientation.

"So, I'm Frank, and I'm your Stanford guide for the next week."

He spent a little time talking about himself and explaining the week of orientation. Then he got to the part that Sam was fearing, getting to know his other classmates.

"Now, pair off with someone near you."

_Crap._ Sam was frozen in panic for a moment. He was bound to get someone asking all kinds of crazy questions about where he was from, his family, his hobbies. Before he could figure out a plan to get out of this, the girl in front of him spun around and smiled.

"You don't look too scary, want to be my partner?"

Sam looked at her. She was simply dressed in a solid red shirt and black pants. Her hair fell just below her shoulders and brushed against her upper arms. Her smile was friendly and almost contagious. Although, it was her eyes that caught Sam's attention. They were clear and decisive. They caught his gaze and held it, he almost couldn't look away. Yet, Sam felt completely at ease looking in her eyes. Again, he had the sense that he knew her, but couldn't place why he would.

She seemed as safe as anyone would be, so Sam shrugged, smiled, and said, "Sure."

"Great. It's a plan." Her smile opened up further for a second, and then she turned back forward as the student in charge continued with the instructions.

"You need to talk to your partner and find out three facts about them, other than their name, that you can use to introduce your partner to the class. Some suggestions are hometown, family, major, hobbies, things like that. Now, you have 5 minutes, go!"

Sam sighed at the instructions and his brow furrowed nervously. He looked at the girl in front of him as she turned back around and said, "So ..."

She smiled and easily took control, "Why don't we start with names, I'm Jen."

Sam let out a breath, names he could handle. "Sam. I'm Sam."

Jen looked at Sam, thoughtful for a moment. "You know," she said, "I've played this game before, and I get tired of the usual 'where are you from' and 'how many brothers and sisters do you have' so why don't we do something more interesting."

Sam wasn't sure where she was going with this, but not answering "where are you from" sounded good to him. "So, what do you mean?"

She smiled again, with an almost guilty look, but her eyes were lit up in excitement. "Well, here's your first question: If you were a kitchen utensil, what would you be? Don't think too hard, just let it pop into your head."

Sam was little shocked, but, wow, was that a great question. He thought for a second.

Jen jumped back in quickly. "I'll tell you mine first. I'm a meat thermometer. I like to find out what's going on inside people, understand them deep down."

Sam smiled, "I like that. Well, I am a paring knife, I like to peel things and find out what's underneath the surface."

"See?" Jen said. "Now we know far more interesting things about each other. Here's the next question, what's your favorite geographical feature?"

Sam lit up. He had never expected the get to know you games to be this, well, fun.

"Oh, that's an easy one," he responded quickly. "I love the Great Plains. Huge sweeping open spaces with the sun shining down, preferably with Buffalo roaming around."

Jen crinkled up her nose at that. "Too much land. I love lakes. Glistening blue water, edged with trees, sitting out on a rowboat catching fish." Jen paused, a little nostalgically.

Sam looked at Jen carefully for a moment, then he had an idea. "Ok, I have the last question. If you could sum up your life in one song lyric, what would it be?"

Jen looked right into Sam's eyes with her deeply piercing, but yet soft, stare. "Don't stop believing." She spoke without a moment's pause.

Sam smiled. "Journey, good choice."

"And you?"

"Don't look back, a new day is breaking"

"Oh, Boston, very nice."

Sam kept looking at Jen. He was still wondering why she seemed so familiar.

"Yes?" she said.

"What?" Sam jerked out of his thoughts and back into the classroom.

"You are staring and thinking about asking me something, so you might as well do it. What's the worst that can happen?"

Sam was uncomfortable for a moment, surprised she had figured that out. Her words made sense, though, and Sam couldn't think of a reason not to ask.

"Could we have met before? You seem awfully familiar to me."

She smiled and said, "I don't think so, but I've been on the move a lot over the last few years, anything is possible."

"Yeah," Sam responded, "I've moved around a lot too. Oh well." Sam didn't think too much about it any longer. It was so unlikely that he knew her, and some people just always looked familiar.

At that point, the leader at the front of their room called them to attention and started the introductions. Sam's and Jen's were certainly memorable, if unconventional. Sam was glad to get off to such a great start.

* * *

[Present: after Dean's arrival]

Sam finally finished packing and looked Jess in the eyes, trying to reassure her. "Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise."

He kissed her on the cheek and left the room. She shouted after him. "At least tell me where you're going."

As Sam left the room, he noticed Jen standing quietly at the door to her bedroom. Sam paused for a moment and looked at Jen. He knew she had heard everything from before, but had remained silent. Jen didn't ask questions; she never did in the three years they had known each other. Somehow, though, Jen always seemed to understand. Sam's eyes asked the question, Keep an eye on Jess. Jen nodded and gave Sam a small smile. Sam relaxed, somewhat. Jen could make anything better. At least, she always seemed to be able to for him.

* * *

[December 2002]

It was Christmas Eve and Sam was wandering the arts building. He had just come back from the dinner hosted by the International Students Association. There were quite a few students at Stanford over Christmas break, but Sam was the only American at the dinner. He enjoyed the food and the people, and would have stayed longer, but it seemed that everyone he spoke with felt the need to grill him over why he was there and where his family was. Sam escaped quickly before dessert, foregoing the apple pie.

He always liked the arts building. Art and music students seemed to work at all hours, so it was typically open. The walls were always interesting, bulletin boards with music theory or art critiques. Usually, there was also a cacophony of sounds of students in practice rooms preparing for concerts and juries. Tonight, however, it was eerily quiet.

Sam wandered for a little while, when he heard piano music across the building and started wandering in that direction. He wasn't sure why exactly, but it seemed appropriate to have music at Christmas. Not that he typically did as a kid. Well, there was a first time for everything.

The strains of a jazzy version of the Christmas Song lured Sam down further towards the piano practice rooms. Sam always heard the Christmas music on the tv when he could get Dean to leave on the Christmas shows, but he didn't learn the words to most of the carols. He did remember the tune well enough to hum along.

At the end of the song, the music stopped, and so did Sam. He stood still for a moment, lost in his own thoughts in the hallway. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him, "Sam?"

Sam jumped and turned around. How could someone sneak up on him? The voice belonged to Jen. She was the first person he really talked to at Stanford, during orientation, and then they had been together in a study group for the introductory writing skills class they had together. They had talked a number of times about class, campus, the weather, crazy college students, and other trivial topics. He liked that she never got too personal, and, yet, she still seemed to understand him. It actually confused Sam somewhat. He was so used to feeling like he had to be distant from people, but Jen drew him in, made him feel almost too comfortable, and then didn't ask him for information. Still, a friendly face on Christmas was much appreciated, and he smiled at her.

"Hey, Jen. I didn't know you were still on campus?"

"It's nice and quiet over the holidays." Her response was vague, which seemed to be typical for her. Sam didn't ask further, he never drilled for information just in case it got turned around on him. Jen continued. "Did you hear my music?"

Sam was surprised. "That was you? I didn't know you played. I mean, it was great!"

Jen smiled. "You should come listen."

Sam thought for a moment, but then almost felt compelled. What else was he going to do on Christmas Eve?

"Okay." He followed Jen around the corner to a small room with a baby grand piano in it that said Baldwin on the front. She sat at the piano and began playing. Sam recognized the song, What Child is This.

Sam stood behind and listened while she played it through once. She held onto the final chord of the chorus for a moment, then spoke. "You can sit next to me on the bench, it won't bother me." Then she swiftly moved into a second verse with more flourishes. Sam didn't want to respond over the beautiful music, and chose to simply sit next to Jen on the edge of the bench and listen.

She finished that one, and quickly moved into We Three Kings followed by Angels We Have Heard on High. Sam was soon lost in the music.

Jen paused before the next song. Sam thought he detected a sly smile, though didn't know why. Then she played an introduction to I'll Be Home for Christmas, and, unexpectedly, she began to sing.

_I'll be home for Christmas, you can plan on me  
Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents 'round the tree  
Christmas Eve will find me, when the lovelight gleams  
I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams_

Her voice was clear and delicate and drew Sam into the words. Soon, he was lost in the feeling of the song. The message hit a little close to home since this was his first Christmas with no family around. Even when his dad was out hunting, Dean was always there, trying, if not succeeding, to make Christmas important. The song must have affected Sam even more than he realized, as he barely noticed the tears in his eyes until Jen faded out the final line, and he blinked, and they fell.

Jen turned toward him just at that moment.

Sam quickly swiped at his face and looked the other way. Tears halted, at least for the moment, Sam turned back, smiled, and tried to laugh it off. "You're, umm, really good."

Jen was silent and stoic, but when she looked into Sam's eyes, he felt that she was smiling at him.

"Sorry," Sam added as he laughed again nervously. This was the most emotion he'd shown anyone at Stanford, anyone in years even, and it scared him just a bit that it seemed to come so easily.

"Don't be sorry. You never have to be sorry about that." He locked into her gaze for another silent moment, and then she turned and her hands were back on the keys. She sang again.

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know  
Where the tree tops glisten, and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow  
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write  
May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmas's be white  
_  
Sam laughed at the thought of a white Christmas in California, and was glad to get off the thoughts of his family. He was still a bit shocked that he had cracked like that in front of this girl who was, in many ways, still a stranger to him.

Jen looked up at him again. "I bet you can help with this one." She smiled and started singing.

_Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way_

And Sam joined in

_Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh, hey!_

For a little longer they sang, played, and laughed. Sam had one of the best Christmases he'd ever had in the place he least expected it. After a while, Sam was beginning to feel how late it was getting, and Jen finally called last song. "Then we should both sleep." She said. She played the haunting introduction and sang in German, her ethereal voice echoing around the small room.

_Stille nacht, Helige nacht_  
_Alles schlaft, einsem vacht  
Nur das troute hoch helige par  
Holden knabe im lockingen har  
Schlaft in himmlisher ruh, schlaft in himmlisher ruh_

Sam felt his eyes fill with tears for the second time that evening, although this time they remained still. When the song was finished, Jen closed the lid over the piano keys quietly. She then quickly turned toward Sam and put her arms around him in a hug. He was a little surprised by the gesture, but hugged her back anyway. "Thank you for sharing Christmas with me," she said as she let go. Before Sam could respond, she left the room, and was gone, almost as if she vanished in the hallway.

Sam stood staring at the empty piano for a while. Then, he smiled and walked back to his room. It really was a Merry Christmas.

* * *

[Present]

The Impala sped down the empty road as Sam shifted back into his seat. It did kind of feel good riding shotgun with his brother again.

"So," Dean started the expected interrogation. "I'm gone for a few years, and you are living with not one, but two girls? How did you ever manage that?"

Sam shrugged. "Jen's just a friend."

Dean looked over at him and made an incredulous face. "No such thing."

Sam let out a chuckle. "Trust me. Jen is … well, she's just something else."

* * *

[Winter/Spring 2003]

Sam grabbed his sandwich and salad from the food court area and was headed toward the door when he heard her voice.

"You seem to be in an awful hurry, Sam."

Sam turned to his side to see Jen alone at a small table.

"Oh, uh, well," Sam stuttered.

"Unless you really have a pressing engagement, you should join me for lunch." Jen smiled at Sam.

Sam stopped for a moment, thought about the request, and saw no good excuse to get out of lunch. He shrugged. "I guess. For a little while at least."

Jen's smile broadened. "Good. I like company."

Sam sat across from Jen. He was a little nervous. Typically, he avoided this type of interaction. He had met a number of interesting people in various study groups, but was still wary of purely social gatherings, and especially meals. That was the hardest time to avoid certain topics of conversation. Sam preferred to have an escape route, and half a sandwich on the plate is not usually conducive to that speedy an escape.

Jen started the conversation. Sam expected as much. She tended to take charge in that way. She eyed his lunch choices. "Pre-wrapped sandwich and packaged salad, good choice, quick and easy. Although, if you take the few extra minutes to make your own salad, you can steal the oyster crackers from the soup bar for some extra crunch."

Sam looked down at his food. "I like the way they make the salads here, though, I can never quite find the right ratio of lettuce to tomatoes, but they get it right every time."

Jen smiled at him. "I've always thought that salad making should be an art form. You have to consider texture, color, and flavor to get just the right mix."

"Maybe they should have a class for it, there seems to be one for everything else around here." Sam smiled at Jen and took a bite of his sandwich.

They spent the next hour talking about art, food, and classes Stanford should offer. Sam barely even noticed the time fly by. He had mostly avoided long conversations with people, worried that they would ask obvious questions about his life, and he wasn't sure how to respond to those. Jen, though, never asked.

At a break in the conversation, Jen glanced up at the clock on the wall.

"Well, I have class. I'll see you around, Sam." Jen got up and was lost in the crowd before Sam could respond. He couldn't help but smile the rest of the day.

Sam tended to be a person of habit, and so he was getting the same lunch at the same time next week, when he spotted Jen at the same table as the week before. Jen smiled and waved at Sam so he nodded at her, hands full and all, and said "Hey".

"Well, aren't you going to sit?" Jen replied, a sparkle in her eyes. Sam didn't even hesitate. Jen motioned toward the door. "So, did you run into the crowd out there protesting the new Starbucks coffee?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah. I never thought there were that many people in the world against Starbucks much less at Stanford." The conversation continued, ranging from coffee to tea to farming and fair trade. Once again, no personal information was mentioned or asked about, and once again, Sam barely realized nearly an hour had passed when Jen left for class.

The third week, Sam got his sandwich on a plate instead of wrapped to go. Jen laughed at him. They discussed why Bon Jovi was better than Mozart.

By the fourth week, lunch was part of Sam's routine, and, he noticed, something he really looked forward to. This time just before Jen left she turned to him said with that same sparkle in her eyes, "Next week, same bat time, same bat channel."

Sam smiled as Jen disappeared into the crowd. He came back every week that semester.

* * *

[Present]

Dean pulled Sam out of the house, despite his protests, and got him most of the way to the Impala before Sam turned to stare at the flames out the window of the apartment. Tears filled his eyes, and he whispered, "Jess." Dean looked at Sam eyes full of worry, but Sam barely noticed.

"Sam!" A woman's voice shouted. Both boys turned to see Jen running down the street toward them. She slowed as she got close, "Thank goodness you're okay," She said as she wrapped her arms around Sam.

Sam broke out of his shock at her touch and the tears in his eyes started falling down his cheeks as he hugged his friend tightly. "Jess." He whispered again as a sob broke through. He buried his head into her shoulder.

"I know." Jen said quietly. "I know about everything, remember." Something about her last word reminded Sam of a conversation. He hadn't thought of it before now. He wasn't even sure that he had ever remembered it before now, even though it happened a couple of months ago.

* * *

[September, 2005]

Sam, Jess, and Jen had been having a fun evening of drinks, movies, and board games. Jen was doing a large part of the mixing and pouring, and Jess's tolerance was pretty low. Soon, she was passed out on the couch, and Jen was still going nearly drink for drink with Sam. He was surprised that she was still standing, but Jen was often a surprising person. She had just supplied a new drink to Sam, and sat down at the table across from him with hers.

"Sam, I want to talk to you." Jen's voice was suddenly serious. Sam was drunk enough that he didn't really notice.

"You know, I like talking to you. You always have interesting things to say, and you make me laugh."

"Yes, but right now, I just need you to listen." Sam didn't know why, but suddenly, all he could do was focus on Jen's voice, like it was calling specifically to him.

"I know you don't know much about me, but I know a lot about you. I know that you and your family are hunters. I know what happened to your mother when you were a baby. I know because I'm involved in the same things. It is my job to help stop evil from destroying life. It is not a simple coincidence that we met, and know that I have never lied to you, and never will. I also know you came here to escape the hunter's world. Unfortunately, things are beginning to change, and I think that something may happen to you or your family. I don't know what or when. When it happens though, I want you to know that I am here to help you. Whenever and however you need me. I care about you Sam, and that will not change." Jen sighed. Then she relaxed back into her chair and finished speaking. "You're pretty drunk. You probably won't remember this for a while, but, when you need to remember, I will remind you, and you will remember. Now, you should probably get some sleep."

Sam suddenly felt incredibly tired. His eyes almost refused to stay open, and he couldn't remember what just happened. "Wow," he said. "I am really tired. I think I'm going to get some sleep." Sam got up and wandered off toward his bedroom.

* * *

[Present]

As Sam remembered the conversation, he pulled back and looked at Jen. For a moment he wondered why he didn't remember that before. "You know," He said, staring at Jen as if he were really seeing her for the first time. "You know what just happened to Jess." Although the realization is strange to him, he suddenly felt like she's always known about his life before college. He couldn't think about it then, though, Jess was dead by the same thing that killed his mother and he had to find out who was responsible.

Jen nodded and took Sam's hands. "I do." The shock of the memory and the conversation wore off and tears began rolling down Sam's face again.

"I have to find out who did this." Sam said, trying to compose himself. He took a deep breath and looked at Jen, wanting to ask her to stay but afraid to do that, to ask her to join something he knew would be dangerous.

"I'll stay with you. I want to help." Jen said, almost as if she could read his mind, though that was nothing new for Jen and Sam. She seemed able to do that more often than she should. Sam nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting them go and going over to the trunk of the Impala

Dean had gone to check out the crowd and the scene, and returned looking at Jen suspiciously, but he realized that this wasn't the time for questions. He walked over to his brother giving him a close stare, still worried. Sam was still crying, but stared intently at the shotgun he was checking out, and tried to be calm.

"We got work to do."

Dean nodded at Sam as he shut the trunk. Then Dean looked over at Jen and asked, "and her?"

Sam looked Dean straight in the eyes and responded, "She understands and she's here to help."

Dean shrugged. "Whatever you say." He got in the Impala followed by the others.

Sam knew Dean didn't like it, but Sam also knew he wanted Jen there. She was the only one from school who had ever seen the dark side of Sam's life, even if it was only tiny glimpse, and she was the only one who had ever been able to help.

* * *

[October 2003]

Sam was already sitting at the table he and Jen had dubbed "their spot" when Jen, salad in hand, arrived. It was a few minutes before their usual time, and the dining room was still pretty quiet. Jen was quite surprised to see him.

"Doesn't your class last for another five minutes?" Jen asked as she sat down.

Sam looked up at Jen, and tried to smile, though he was certain that the dark circles under his eyes gave him away in an instant.

"I may have accidentally slept through part of it, so just came here instead."

Jen gave him a very concerned look. "You look like crap. You seemed okay a few days ago. Not sleeping well?"

Sam sighed. "No … not for about three nights or so, at least."

"Is this a too-much-to-do not sleeping thing or a having-trouble-sleeping not sleeping thing?"

"The latter."

"That sucks."

"Tell me about it."

"I have pretty bad insomnia, so I'm somewhat used to not sleeping. But I know for people who like their eight hours, not so easy."

Jen smiled at Sam. He appreciated the empathy, but was pretty sure that she couldn't possibly understand how bad it would have to be for him to get the point where lack of sleep would become noticeable.

"I don't even need a ton of sleep. I'm pretty used to long nights and catching a few hours here and there. But for the last three days it seems every time I shut my eyes, I wake up every couple of hours from these crazy dreams." Sam frowned. He wondered if continuing to talk about this was a good idea. He had gotten way to comfortable with Jen over the last few months, and it seemed that nowadays things just slipped out of his mouth that he'd never intended on sharing. This could be too much of an open door. Nightmares were a remnant of his hunting life, and Sam didn't talk about that life here. He looked over at Jen trying to gauge her reaction.

"Like, nightmares?" She asked. Sam looked into Jen's eyes and saw compassion and concern, but no personal curiosity. She had never been very curious about things before, but Sam never knew when or if that would ever change. Typically he was still somewhat cautious with what he said. Today, however, his defenses weren't quite working as well as they would with more sleep, so he continued.

"Yeah, like nightmares. It used to happen to me more often, when I was younger- but not since I'd gotten out here, not until now." Okay. That was enough. In these mere past two minutes of conversation, Sam had left more openings into his previous life than he had in the last year. He really needed to stop talking. He laid his head on his crossed arms on the table and waited for what he expected to be a string of questions about the dreams that he would have to try and avoid.

However, the questions never came. As Sam rested for a moment, eyes shut, he felt Jen's hand gently press into his temple, smoothing his unkempt hair down. Sam was glad his head was down on the table, because between the lack of sleep, the intensity of the nightmares, and Jen's touch, he couldn't help but let a few tears escape from his eyes- tears which were quickly rubbed into his sleeves. That was certainly not part of the plan. Not that Sam really had a plan. _Probably should have just stayed back in bed. Sent Jen an email instead of bothering her with my shit. _

Well, that was the one thing Sam had known when he'd come here: that he didn't want to deal with this alone. When he was a kid, Dean had always been there. Even while Dean was sleeping, he'd still been there, and Sam had known that they were safe. Alone in his dorm room, waking up to these nightmares, it was much more difficult to fall back asleep without his brother's steady breath nearby. So Sam took a risk, letting Jen in on this part of his world. He still wasn't completely sure of it, but her touch was surprisingly comforting. Quietly, Jen spoke.

"Back at my place, I have a really amazing chamomile tea blend that does a surprisingly good job of knocking people out. Maybe tonight I could bring you some and see if that does the trick."

Sam thought for a moment. This is what he'd wanted, right? Someone to be with him. If tea was the key to that, then tea worked for him. He took a moment to be sure he was fully composed, then picked his head up and smiled at Jen.

"Yeah, that would be great. Thanks." Jen returned the smile. She let Sam's head rest back on the table, and he listened to her babble about 18th century philosophers for the rest of their lunch.

Later that evening, Sam waited for Jen in his dorm. He had a single dorm room this year on a quiet study floor that he'd volunteered to RA: mainly since he would get room-rent as well as the single, plus the advantage of lots of quiet, non-intrusive, students housed around him. He was relieved when the knock on the door produced Jen, lugging a bag of supplies. _So much stuff for a cup of tea?_ Sam thought, as he watched her pull everything out.

She noticed him watching. "I don't suppose you have a kettle, mugs, or honey here?"

Sam shook his head at Jen. She smiled smugly. "I didn't expect you to." His silent question answered, Sam once again wondered how she seemed to know him so well. Once she got the water in the kettle and the tea bags waiting, she sat at Sam's desk and glanced around. Again, Sam began to get nervous. Typically, when people came into his room they looked for things to talk about, family photos, posters: stuff which Sam mostly didn't have. His walls were empty other than the school calendar, his desk neat with just a computer and some pens and pencils and the one frames photo of his parents. Fortunately, Jen might as well have not noticed anything. She smiled at him while waiting, but remained silent. Sam breathed out a slow, expansive sigh of relief when she finally declared, "Ok, it's ready now."

Jen handed him a mug with Scrabble X words written all over it. "Sip slowly. Part of the process is to gradually bring up your body temperature, then let it drop afterward. The drop is the signal for deep sleep." Sam nodded and started sipping. This close to falling asleep was the point that he typically started getting nervous. The dreams had been terrifying visions of his Dad and Dean hunting on their own. The details changed each time, but over and over again they'd ended with creatures tearing apart Sam's family as they'd screamed his name. Sam wasn't sure he could handle dreaming that again, but he knew he couldn't keep himself awake forever either.

Jen had been silent still, but was watching Sam with an expression that Sam couldn't place... Uncertainty, perhaps? The tea was just beginning to warm his body when Jen spoke again.

"I read in my Psych book that nightmares are like cramps in your brain. When you get a cramp in your muscle, it tightens up and refuses to relax. You need to stretch the muscle, make it work, to get rid of the cramp. If nightmares are cramps in your brain, perhaps what you should do is consciously think about your nightmares to force them out rather than let them seep through while you are trying to sleep and at your most vulnerable."

Sam clutched his cup with both hands. She didn't really want him to talk about the dreams, did she? She had never pried before, but he knew it could always happen. No. He couldn't tell the dream to her. He stopped sipping and stammered, "But, these dreams ... I mean ..."

Jen interrupted him before he could finish, again mirroring his unspoken thoughts. "I'm not suggesting you tell me about the dreams, just think about them. I assume it's what you've been doing anyway. I know that I can never get nightmares out of my head. Only, this time, let it happen, don't stop it, even the bad parts."

She put her hand gently on Sam's wrist. He relaxed upon hearing her words and, almost without thought, he removed his hand from the cup and gently held hers in return. She gave his hand a quick squeeze and graced him with a gentle smile. Okay. This, he could do. What's the worst that can happen? Although Sam's trust had never been given easily, he felt at ease trusting Jen on this. He already found himself feeling better just allowing his hand to rest in hers. It was as if he could draw on her strength, not just figuratively, but in an almost real sense.

Sam nodded, and squeezed Jen's hand in return. He sipped his tea, and shut his eyes.

Then, he let the thought come through, the nightmare clear in his head. As his father and brother ran through the dark woods, Sam gripped Jen's hand hard. Again, he could almost feel strength flowing into him, he slowed his breathing slightly and kept the anxiety at bay. This had never been the worst part of his nightmares, though. The worst always came when the advancing creature caught up with Dean. Again, Sam heard the screams in his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

Sam wanted it to stop right here, as it was the next part that always left him wide awake in a cold sweat. Suddenly, he felt another squeeze on his hand, and he allowed himself to continue. The sound of his brother crying, "Sam! Help!" echoed in his head, and he couldn't contain either the sharp shudder or the tear that fell out of his eye. Before Sam could move, Jen had wiped it away. He tried to say something, _sorry _or _thanks_, but Jen said, "Shhh," and he continued to hold her hand as he slowly relaxed back to reality. When he was done, he opened his eyes, took the final sip out of his cup, and handed it to Jen.

Sam took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He felt calm and almost relieved. Maybe there was something to what Jen had said and to what he had done. He turned to Jen.

"I think I'm good now."

Jen smiled. "You sleep then, I'll leave." She gathered her stuff quickly and Sam stood up to get ready for bed once she was out the door. Jen grabbed his hand once more on the way out the door.

"Go to sleep, sweet dreams." She said. Her words, and probably the tea, seemed to hit Sam suddenly very hard and he felt incredibly tired. He moved back toward the bed as Jen left and shut the door behind her.

Sam didn't remember anything else until 8:00 the next morning.

The next morning, Jen received an email from Sam containing two words: "Thank you."

* * *

**Author's note: Well! That's a bit of a rolling start I think. I stopped here because the next part is from Dean's perspective. It will go up tomorrow.**


	2. Pilot, part 2

[Present]

Dean was at a loss. The last hour of his life had seemed surreal. He had driven away from Sam, reached the end of the block, and had such a suddenly strong feeling of uneasiness that he had immediately turned around and reached his brother just in time to save him from the heat and the flames, for the second time in their lives.

Only last time, taking care of Sam had been pretty easy. A little rocking and soothing and he was okay. This time, Dean couldn't just tell his little brother not to cry, everything would be okay. It wouldn't. The love of Sam's life had just gone up flames, and Dean had no idea what to say.

He drove to a motel. He had passed one on the way in, and knowing the location of the nearest motel was second nature in Dean's life. It was about a twenty minute drive. Dean glanced at his brother. Sam was calm. Too calm. Occasionally, a hand would move to clear the tears from his eyes, but he just stared straight ahead as if deep in thought.

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and caught sight of the girl in the backseat. He had seen her before at Sam and Jess's apartment, so she must be the roommate, the "friend", Sam had briefly mentioned. Dean frowned. He didn't know her, he didn't trust her, and he didn't want her in his car. What happened in there was their family problem, and even if she currently couldn't stay in the apartment, there had to be someplace else she could go. He wasn't about to start some fight with Sam over it right now, though, and Sam seemed so certain about her. Oh well, Dean could sort it all out later. Right now, his major concern was getting his brother someplace safe, and the motel was the only thing he could think of.

Sam and Jen waited in the car while Dean procured a room. He didn't know what Jen was going to do, but if she wanted her own room then she could get out and get it herself. The trio was silent as Dean parked the Impala in front of the door that said 15 and they entered the small motel room. Jen stayed at the rear of the group and Dean quickly threw his duffle on the bed nearest to the door. Sam still looked like he was in a trance and he quietly sat on the other bed, looking down at his hands. Dean looked over at his brother who hadn't said a word now in the last half an hour.

"Sammy?" He questioned.

"What do we do?" Sam responded quietly. Dean looked at his brother quizzically.

"What do you mean, Sammy?"

"We have to do something. We have to find out what did this and we have to kill it. So, where do we start? What do we do?" Sam's voice started to break. Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at Dean. Dean knew that the person sitting on the bed was his 22-year-old adult brother who has been living by himself at college for three years, but what he saw were the eyes of his kid brother, waiting for Dean to tell him how to make things better, like he always used to do. Only this time, Dean didn't know, so he just looked at Sam. Sam asked again.

"What do we do?"

This time it only came out as a whisper and a tear fell from his eye. Dean didn't know what to say, but he knew what to do. Dean sat beside his brother and three years ago may as well have been yesterday as he wrapped his arms around his brother who fell sideways onto his leather jacket. It was okay. This was one of the few times when it didn't matter if the jacket got a little wet.

As Dean held his shaking brother he looked up for a moment for the girl that came along with them. She was sitting in an armchair in the corner, a black wrap pulled completely around her. She watched Dean comfort his brother as well as he could. Her face was expressionless, but she seemed to understand. Dean knew that a lot had probably happened in the last three years. He wondered if this girl would be his link to that part of Sam. He began to realize that he might need her around after all, at least, for a little while.

Soon, Sam began to calm down again, and Dean began to realize just how little sleep they both had gotten.

"You two should try and get some rest." Jen whispered, moving across the room to Dean who was still cradling Sam. Sam was nearly asleep already, and Dean tapped his shoulder to rouse him.

"Hey Sammy-boy. Time to switch to the pillow."

Jen came over to the other side of Dean and helped him shift Sam to the bed. He babbled something incoherent towards them, but Jen rubbed his shoulder and whispered, "You should rest, Sam," and he rolled over and fell asleep.

Dean looked at Jen for a moment as she stood upright and looked back at him. "You should rest, too." She said, matter-of-factly. Then she walked past him and went back to the chair she was in before. She flipped the switch on the light beside her. Dean watched her until the room was dark, and then took his place in the bed, but with one ear toward Sam, and one eye on the girl in the chair.

Dean did eventually fall asleep. He woke up once a couple of hours later to the sounds of muffled crying from Sam's bed. He shifted, trying to wake himself up when he looked over and saw Jen sitting up on Sam's bed already, whispering to him. Dean was too tired to worry about it. Maybe this Jen would be useful as well. Note to self. Ask about her in the morning. Dean rolled back over and got a few more hours of sleep.

* * *

The next time Dean woke up. Jen was sitting at the desk reading a book and Sam was asleep again. He looked at the clock and realized that it was close to 10:00am.

"Whew, maybe I should go out and get some breakfast food or something." He said rooting through his duffle.

"I could do that." Jen said, closing her book and standing up. Dean started to protest, but Jen kept talking. "I know where to go around here, and there's a place I can walk to just up the road. Plus, I think it would be better if you were here when if he wakes up instead of me." Dean wasn't about to argue with that, at least so long as she wasn't asking to drive the Impala, and Jen took off.

Sam did wake up while Jen was gone. Dean heard the shout, "Jess! Jess!" just before Sam sat upright and looked around dazed for a moment. Dean sat on the edge of the bed.

"Sammy, you alright?"

Sam shook his head and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He looked around the room for a moment. "Where'd Jen go?"

Dean sighed. Something seemed odd about that: Sam waking and asking for Jen, but again, Dean had been gone for three years. What had he missed? He had to find out.

"She went to grab some breakfast or something."

"I'm not really hungry."

"Maybe you should try and eat something." Dean started as the door opened and Jen returned.

"I agree." She said, bringing over a bag and tossing one at Dean. He peered inside and found what appeared to be a lemon-poppyseed muffin. Jen sat across from Sam on the other bed and pulled a bagel out of the other bag she held. "Cinnamon-raisin with cream cheese." She held it out to Sam, who ignored her. "Please, a little at least." Sam begrudging took the bagel and took a small bite. Jen smiled and pulled another bagel out of the bag that she began to eat.

"So," Dean started, figuring this might be his only chance to get the story about Jen. "We were kind of rushed last night," Sam flinched, and Dean hurried to get the rest out. "What's the story with the two of you?"

Jen looked up at Sam and smiled. "We met the first day of orientation." Sam weakly smiled back and the two of them quickly relayed a story about freshman year orientation, study groups, Christmas carols, and lunches. For a few minutes, Dean got a glimpse of Sam's life in college, and Sam got a brief mental break from recent events through. The story ended about the middle of Sam and Jen's sophomore year.

"Oh, we also did the Cabaret shows together." Jen recalled.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I did lights, and we would sit up in the booth and watch Jen perform."

"We?" Dean interjected.

Sam continued without thinking. "Yeah, me and Jess." A sudden silence settled on the three. Sam looked down. A moment later he looked up at Jen with tears in his eyes. Dean watched as she quickly moved next to Sam and took his hand, which he grasped without hesitation. Dean swallowed hard and felt a pit in his stomach to see his brother transformed once again from the Sam he knew to the grief-stricken boyfriend he didn't really know what to do with. Well, Dean knew the one thing he was good at, hunting down evil fuckers like this one. He stood up and turned to Jen and Sam.

"You asked me yesterday what we should do. Well, I know you probably don't want to, but we should go back to the apartment and see what we can find."

Sam gripped Jen's hand harder and she put her other hand on top of it. Sam looked up at his brother. "I know." He said very quietly. "I know."

* * *

"I can't believe we found nothing!" Dean paced around the motel room. "No EMF, no remnants, nothing."

Sam sat at the desk burying himself into his computer. "There's got to be something we're missing."

Dean stopped and looked at his brother, desperately trying to find something anything to go after, to get answers. No, not answers, revenge. Dean knew the look. He had seen it in his father's eyes more times than he'd like to recall. He never knew what to do about it then, and he still didn't know now. He looked at his father's journal sitting on the bed. Maybe there's something in there.

Dean grabbed the journal and sat on the bed. He glanced over at Jen who was going through the bags of stuff they managed to salvage from the apartment. Sam had barely looked at it. He seemed to be fully focused now on hunting and researching, a sure sign of denial if Dean ever saw one. Wasn't much else they could do anyway. Dean opened the journal and started to read.

* * *

The research continued almost nonstop for the next two days, and kept ending in dead leads. Sam didn't want to quit or even take breaks. He spent his waking hours looking for something to follow. He tired himself out trying not to fall asleep because whenever he did, his mind replayed Jess's death over and over. Everyone was exhausted.

Dean turned to the next page in the journal. He had barely gotten anywhere spending half of his time trying to decipher his Dad's cryptic descriptions and notes. Just as he started to glance at the pictures and words in front of him, he heard the moan. Dean's gaze went immediately to the desk where Sam had fallen asleep at his computer.

Crap. Now Sam was mumbling, "No. Jess!" Dean looked across the room at Jen who was already moving off the other bed in Sam's direction. Dean put the journal down and did the same.

Sam woke suddenly with a start and a loud shout. "Jess!" He blinked a few times and remembered where he was. Jen had found her way to the chair next to him and rubbed his back gently. Tears filled Sam's eyes and he put his hand to his mouth and started sobbing silently. Jen wrapped her arm around him and pulled him gently toward her. Sam gave in to her and allowed himself to hold her and sob. Dean put a hand on his brother's shoulder and looked at Jen. This had happened a few times in the last two days, and Dean was starting to worry about Sam's ability to function if he couldn't get some sleep. Jen's expression suggested that she had a similar thought.

Dean remained for a moment trying to lend some comfort to his brother, but soon returned to his seat and the journal. He looked back over at Jen and Sam, thinking again about her. He had mixed feelings at this point. He was somewhat relived that he didn't have to be the one to deal with Sam, he was never good at this kind of thing. Yet, he was still somewhat concerned about this person he didn't know or trust. Can you really get that close to someone in three years? Dean was used to protecting his brother, and his role seemed to have been usurped while Sam was off at college. Sam appeared to trust her completely, but had no compelling reason for that beyond "She's always been there for me." She was too mysterious. That made Dean nervous.

Sam calmed down after a minute or two and picked his head up and sat up. Jen picked up one of his hands and held it between hers. "Maybe you should try and get some actual sleep, on the bed, it might help," she suggested.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know, nothing seems to help."

Jen looked directly into Sam's eyes and spoke with absolute certainty, "Trust me, this time it will." Dean watched as Sam, who looked slightly tranced, suddenly stood up and moved over to the bed and lay down. Jen pulled the chair up next to him, and stroked his hair, and began to hum. Soon Sam was breathing deeply, sound asleep. Dean was still watching Jen, wondering how she finally managed to get him to sleep on the bed. Jen looked satisfied and stood up and smiled weakly at Dean.

"I think we both deserve a break, can I buy you a beer?"

"What if he wakes up while we're gone?" Dean questioned.

Jen glanced over at Sam. "He's pretty exhausted. I'm sure he'll sleep for at least a few hours." She sounded very confident, and Dean at least wanted to believe her.

Dean shrugged. "Who am I to turn down a free beer?" Dean grabbed his coat and both exited the hotel room. They headed down the street to a slightly shady, but quiet bar. Jen want up to the bar and ordered. Dean sat in a booth near the back. Jen returned with two pints of a dark-amber beer.

Dean took a long sip. He thought for a moment, and then nodded and smiled. "Well, you have good taste in beer, I'll give you that."

Jen took a sip of her beer. "Thanks, but I think that you have something to say that's not related to the beer." She gave Dean a knowing smile.

Dean paused a moment and took a long drink from his pint. He hadn't necessarily been hiding his suspicions, but he hadn't been making them obvious either, at least, he hadn't thought so. Still, if she was going to ask, he might as well talk. He began, in a somewhat accusing tone. "Yeah, I do. I don't know you, and I don't know how well you know Sam. I've been holding my tongue so far because you are good to my little brother, and I certainly don't need to be doing all this hand-holding 'share your feelings' crap that you both are so into, but before this gets much further, I gotta know why you are here? I'm not buying this 'good friend of Sam's' line you have both been feeding me. What do you know and why do you care so much about Sam?"

Jen took just as long a drink of her beer as Dean did his. She looked him in the eyes and began. "First thing I'm going to tell you is that I can't tell you everything, but I think you already know that. That's the life, the same one you live, where some things have to remain untold for the higher cause. Here's what I can tell you: I'm fighting against the same things you are. Things that hurt and kill people, and things that are evil, but I'm doing it in my own way. I know Sam, and you, because in this business, the Winchesters are a well-known name, more than you know yet. I can tell you that I've been doing this job for a long time, longer than you think, and I know that you and Sam are special and very important. I would do anything within my power to help you both, and I'm here when you need me." Jen paused for a moment and something changed in her eyes. She looked deadly serious. "Trust me, Dean. I'm on your side, and I can help."

Dean kept looking at Jen. He wanted to trust her. Dean didn't understand why, but everything she said seemed to make perfect sense. Something was still nagging at him though, but he couldn't place it. There was almost something, oddly familiar about Jen. That couldn't be though. He would remember a girl their age involved in hunting. At the very least, Dean couldn't pass up the help with Sam. He already didn't know what he would have done without her for the last few days. How much trouble could one girl be? Okay. Decision made, for now.

He picked up his remaining beer and downed it. "Ok, you seem like a cool chick, you take good care of my brother, and you have good taste in beer, you can ride with us. However, I warn you, two things: first, if you so much as injure one hair on Sam's head, I will destroy you. Second, I do not do any of this chick-flick, share my feelings crap, so you just stick with Sam and I'll deal with me just fine."

Jen smiled and downed her remaining beer, which caused Dean's eyes to widen slightly. "I will leave you to handle anything you can handle," she paused and looked at their empty glasses. "Another round?"

Dean thought for a moment and shrugged, "Maybe just one more."

Jen signaled to the bartender and soon they had full pints. The two spent another hour chatting and getting to know each other. Jen told a few stories about Sam at Stanford, and Dean told a few hunter stories. Dean felt better about Jen by the end, and was ready to accept her as part of their team, for now. He almost couldn't understand how easily she seems to fit, but yet, it felt natural to him. After the second round, they did return to the motel room. As promised, Sam was still asleep. Dean went to the other bed and began to lay down. He paused and looked at Jen. "You want the bed?" He asked, something he hadn't done the previous two nights.

Jen smiled at him but shook her head. "No, I'm plenty comfortable on the chair, and I have terrible insomnia so it's easier if I can just get up and down."

Dean shrugged. "Ok, night."

"Goodnight." Jen turned the lights out, and Dean rolled over and fell asleep quickly.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading if you've gotten this far! I realize that this series is going to be a little out there for most people, but if I like to write this stuff, it stands to reason someone, somewhere will enjoy reading it, right? Anyway, if you recall your canon, Wendigo will be posted next week.**


	3. Wendigo

Sam woke with a start, though not a shout this time. Dean didn't miss a beat though and glanced at his little brother.

"You okay?"

Sam shook his head to clear the dream, blinked a couple of times and lied, badly. "Yeah, I'm fine"

Dean nodded knowingly and glanced in the rearview at Jen in the backseat. Her expression suggested to him that she didn't believe Sam either. Dean asked even though he knew Sam didn't want him to.

"Another nightmare?"

Sam cleared his throat. Dean looked at Jen again. This time she shrugged her shoulders at him. They both were unhappy with the continuing cycle of Sam waking up too early, sleeping during the day, and having more nightmares than he could deal with, but neither had figured out what to do about it. Dean took another stab at the problem.

"You wanna drive for a while?"

Sam laughed at his brother, trying to deflect the attention on him from both sides. He could almost feel Jen's eyes staring into him from behind. He generally refused to talk about the dreams, but he could tell that she knew when they were about Jess. She hadn't said anything to him about them, but Sam knew the look, he had seen it many times in the past three years. It said, _You're hiding something, and I know it._ It made him feel guilty for not letting her help, but the dreams themselves made him feel more guilty, so he remained silent. He focused on Dean. Dean he knew how to handle.

"In your whole life you never once asked me that"

Dean just shrugged and kept driving. "Just thought you might want to, never mind."

Sam sighed. "Look man, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

Dean's eyes darted back to the rearview mirror. Sam saw it. "Mmhmm." Dean replied.

Sam spun around and looked at Jen, who gave him her most innocent look. "That goes for you, too. I know you two are plotting things behind my back. Don't." Sam smiled and pointed at Jen as he said the last word.

"Fine. Next time, you can sit back here and we'll plot things in front of you." Jen said perfectly calmly, though a sly smile that surfaced for only a fraction of a second glinted in her eyes.

Sam narrowed his eyes at her, but turned back around. "All right...where are we?"

Dean replied. "We are just outside of Grand Junction."

Sam opened up the map and starts looking at it intently. "You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon." His voice held just that hint of the sadness he kept trying to hide. Jen reached across the seat and gave Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze as Dean reminded his brother what all three already knew.

"Sam, we dug around there for a week, we came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica ... "

Sam finished the statement for him as he reached up to squeeze Jen's hand before she removed it. "We gotta find dad first."

Dean continued talking, more for himself than for Sam. "Dad disappearing, and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence. Dad will have answers; he'll know what to do."

Sam was still examining the map. "It's weird man. These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge."

Dean shrugged. "What about it?"

"There's nothing there, it's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

None of the three had a sufficient answer. They reached their destination mostly in silence.

Dean quickly found a Ranger Station and Visitor Center. Sam and Dean got out of the car and looked over at it. Sam turned to the other two. "Gotta start somewhere, right?"

"I think I'll wait here." Jen stated. Sam stopped and looked back at her confused. She just smiled at him. "Three is more suspicious than two and someone should keep an eye on this beautiful car out here all by itself."

Dean laughed. "You know, I think I'm going to like her. She has a point, too many cooks, right?" He nudged Sam with an elbow. Sam was still looking at Jen funny, trying to figure out what she was thinking. She responded to his look.

"Go, Sam. Find out what you need."

Sam finally shrugged and the two boys entered the visitor center.

* * *

Dean laughed and snapped the copy of the permit as him and Sam left the visitor center.

Sam frowned at his brother. "What are you cruising for a hook-up or something?" They caught up with Jen who cocked her head to silently ask what happened. Sam filled her in. "He wants to check out some girl who's brother is supposedly missing from Blackwater Ridge."

Dean pouted at Sam. "What do you mean?"

Sam was starting to lose patience with his brother. "The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge so what are we waiting for, let's just go find dad. I mean why even talk to this girl?"

Dean raised his eyebrows at his brother. "I dunno maybe we should know what we're walking in to before we actually walk into it." Dean glanced at Jen who had quietly moved up behind Sam. She had that worried look on her face again. Dean was beginning to not like that look. He looked back at Sam, as if he wanted to ask him a question. Sam noticed the exchange between Dean and Jen.

"What?" Sam asked, slightly exasperated.

"Well since when are you all shoot first ask questions later anyway?" Dean asked.

"Since now," Sam replied, pulling open the Impala door. Jen looked at Dean once more with the same concern in her eyes, but then also pulled open her door to get in the car. Dean knew that they would have to keep an eye on Sam if this turned out to be a hunt. He wasn't sure Sam was ready for this yet.

But, for now, Dean played cool. "Oh, Really?" He quipped as he entered the driver's seat. The three drove off to find Hailey.

* * *

Sam and Dean left the older man's house and made their way back out to the Impala where Jen was waiting outside.

Dean was thinking aloud. "Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside they just go through the walls."

Sam finished the thought. "So it's probably something else, something corporeal."

"Corporeal? Excuse me professor."

"Shut up. So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves, could be a skin walker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it."

The boys reached Jen at the trunk of the Impala and Dean began to pack weapons into a duffel bag. Sam frowned and looked to both Dean and Jen.

"We cannot let that Hailey girl go out there." Sam seemed agitated. Dean looked at Jen, but her expression was blank. He turned to Sam.

"Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?" Dean tried for the overly sarcastic tone. Apparently his little brother wasn't quite catching it.

"Yeah." Sam was acting like that was an honestly good idea. Dean wasn't sure what Sam was thinking. Had he been out of hunting this long? All right, new strategy. Jen had always been successful using the logic approach. Stay cool, think logically.

"Her brother's missing Sam. She's not just gonna sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator-friend."

"Finding dad's not enough?" Sam muttered as he slammed the trunk shut. "Now we gotta babysit too?"

Dean looked to Jen again. Now the worried look had reappeared on her face. Dean's face mirrored hers as he looked back at Sam.

"What?" Sam directed that at both of them.

Dean shrugged. "Nothin." He said as he threw the duffel bag at his brother. Sam caught it and gave Dean an annoyed look. Dean noticed that Jen still hadn't gotten in the car, and he was pretty sure that meant she wanted to say something to Sam. Dean quickly got himself out of the way and into the driver's seat.

Sam looked at Jen. "I imagine you have more to say than 'nothin'?"

Jen looked at him, her expression impossible to read. She raised her eyebrows slightly. "You often find what you need in unexpected places."

Sam sighed. "I just don't get how putting our efforts into this girl and her brother will help us find dad." The anger died out of Sam's expression and was replaced with a desperate longing.

Jen walked up to Sam and reached and placed her hand on his arm for a moment. "Not what you want, what you need." Sam sighed again, but he had learned not to argue with Jen when she said things like that. The downfall of having a philosophy major for a friend he figured. Yet, somehow, even though he didn't understand her, he realized that they had to do this and resigned himself to the hunt. He looked at Jen once more.

"You are coming, right?"

She smiled at him and nodded. "Of course."

* * *

Sam had given up talking to anyone after he came a little too close to punching that guide, Roy. Dean and Jen pretty much took control anyway. Dean gave the group the Cliff's Notes guide to Wendigos and then Jen got a nice campfire going while Dean scoured the journal for necessary information on how to protect themselves. Sam had enough with people for a while. The only person Sam was interested in was John, and he was clearly nowhere to be found.

Sam was lost enough in his own thoughts that he barely saw Jen sit next to him.

"Hey Sam." She said. He glanced at her, but couldn't read her expression. Jen had a nearly perfect poker face, which always made her trouble during Texas Hold 'Em nights at Stanford. However, she often used it on Sam at other times as well. Not being able to read her threw him just slightly off his guard and he always ended up saying things he didn't intend to. This technique had made Jen a real pro at getting Sam to open up at Stanford where he was usually very cautious when it came to talking about his life. Right now, though, talking was not what Sam wanted to do.

Sam sighed at Jen. "Please, don't. I can't ..."

Jen cut him off with a "Shh," as she put her hand lightly on his back and rubbed gently.

_Okay, good_. Sam let out a little sigh of relief that Jen wasn't interested in making him talk. He wasn't sure he could do that right now without losing it anyway as the only thing on his mind all day has been Jess. That was the last thing he needed. These people already just barely trusted him and Dean, if Sam were to break down in tears, they would probably just think he was crazy.

He glanced at Jen again. They seemed to trust her surprisingly well. She was teaching Hailey's brother about making campfires earlier and he was hanging on her every word. Sam was pretty impressed. Hailey didn't believe for a second that they were rangers, but Jen just said "Nature specialist" when asked, and no one had bothered her again. She also seemed to have an array of outdoor skills Sam hadn't seen at Stanford. Camping didn't exactly come up often in college. _Hmm. Maybe she was a Girl Scout._ Jen hadn't much talked about herself, and there was still a lot about Jen that Sam never knew. _Not like I talked about myself much either_.

Sam kept thinking about how little he knew about Jen. He didn't even know if she had any family, brothers, sisters, parents even. He wondered for a moment that she never spoke about that. Of course, it was only a fluke that she learned about Dean before he showed up.

* * *

[January 2005]

Jen pulled open the door and held it while Sam helped Jess inside.

"Thanks for staying out with me guys! It was so much fun. Stupid birthday on a Sunday and all." Jess slurred just noticeably. Sam and Jen smiled at each other as they passed. Sam was maybe a bit tipsy at best, and he was certain that Jen was completely sober. He wasn't actually sure he'd ever seen her get drunk. He turned back to Jess who had definitely enjoyed herself with a few shots. He gave his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead.

"You only turn 21 once, you might as well enjoy it for a little while, even if it's a school night." Sam was supporting most of Jess's weight.

"Stay over, baby?" Jess asked Sam with a little bit of a pout. Sam glanced over at Jen. She smiled again and nodded just slightly. Always nice to have your girlfriend living with one of your best friends.

"Yeah, of course." Sam ran his hair through Jess's long, blond hair and gave her a quick kiss. "You should go to bed though sweetie, you still have class at 11, and it's almost 2 now."

Jess returned Sam's kiss with a sloppy one of her own. "Okay. You are so good to me!"

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. At least this should be easy enough. Jess tended to be a lightweight drinker and typically fell asleep quickly.

Jen walked over to the two of them. "Goodnight Jess, happy birthday!" She said, giving Jess a quick hug and then heading off into her room and shutting the door.

Sam helped Jess to bed. He stayed with her for a little while, unable to fall asleep, staring at the ceiling. The house appeared silent. Jess's slow and steady breathing was beside him, but Sam had other thoughts running through his head. He couldn't stay in the bedroom any longer. He slowly and quietly got up and tiptoed out the door.

He went out to the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. Sam took a seat at the counter on one of the bar stools and stared at the bottle for a moment.

"Here's to you Dean," he said as he took a big sip. "Happy 26th." Sam tipped the bottle up again, letting the cool carbonation slide down his throat. It was hard not to think of his brother when his girlfriend had the same birthday. He always thought that was an odd coincidence, but never really thought much about it. However, since tonight was Jess's 21st, it was harder than in the past years to pass over the day quickly. There had been nothing but birthday talk all day. Birthday dinner, birthday movie, and finally the magic moment of midnight. Jess couldn't stop smiling. Sam couldn't stop thinking about Dean.

Sam didn't have class until late in the afternoon, so he wasn't too worried about getting to bed. The apartment was quiet and Sam was still a bit buzzed from the evening, which he kept up with the current beer, and he was finally able to stop worrying about pretending to be happy.

Sam was staring at his beer, lost in thought, when he heard a voice just behind him.

"You're still up."

Sam jumped just a bit. It was Jen's voice. He could never quite figure out how Jen was always able to sneak up on him, even with his years of training. Yet, she seemed to do it all the time.

"Shit," Sam replied, "I didn't know you were there. Thought you went to bed?"

Jen shrugged walked toward the fridge. "Insomnia, you know. I rarely get to sleep right away anymore, so I came out here for a drink."

Jen got herself a glass of water and sat on the stool next to Sam.

"I see that you have a thoughtful beverage of choice this early morning."

Sam looked down at his beer again. Jen had a way of talking around things she wanted to know without outright asking questions. Sam knew she wanted to know what was on his mind, and oddly enough he almost felt compelled to talk to Jen. Jen has always seemed different somehow. Wiser than her years, like she knew what was inside Sam's head, even though that couldn't possibly be true. Yet, she rarely asked for the details of his life. Sam wasn't sure this was something he wanted to get into, but he figured a brief explanation might at least satisfy Jen.

"Today is my brother's birthday. His name is Dean. He's four years older than me. This beer is for him." Sam said all this pretty flatly, trying not to think too hard about how much he really missed his brother. He never questioned that he had to get away from his father, an important part of going to college, but not Dean. Dean always cared about him, and he missed the days of going out on Dean's birthday, usually when it was just the two of them. They always did something together, no matter where Dad was, for both of their birthdays. Now, he didn't know what Dean was doing.

"You miss your brother." Jen stated more than asked looking ahead and sipping her water.

The words rang in Sam's ears as tears filled his eyes and a lump formed in his throat. He was silent for a moment, taking a careful breath and maintaining his composure. After a few blinks, he picked up the beer again, took a sip, and responded, wistfully, "Yeah, I do."

Jen waited a moment after Sam responded before speaking again. "It must be hard that Jess's birthday is the same day. You can't even begin to try and forget about it." Jen spoke simply and quietly, never expecting answers, and continuing to look ahead and not at Sam.

Sam was suddenly quite relieved that Jen wasn't looking at him since his eyes were still full of tears and this time he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to hold them back. Every instinct Sam had told him to get out of that situation. He never talked about his family. He dodged and lied to avoid Jess's barrages of questions during the almost a year that they had been together. Even though he'd known Jen longer, two and a half years now, he still had only given her bits and pieces, and all of that accidental. Now it had been so long since he had talked about his family that it was becoming an almost overwhelming need. Somehow, between the lateness, the beer, and the birthdays, Sam's barriers were cracking and words began to pour out.

"You know, I moved around a lot as a kid, and my Dad was usually really busy working, but Dean always made sure we celebrated our birthdays. It was his thing. We'd get whichever candy bar we wanted and a soda, and he liked to get candles and stick them in things like Little Debbie cakes to blow out. Somehow, the day was always special."

Sam's voice got very quiet toward the end, and the tears he had been struggling to hold back pushed through and two slipped down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away, but now that he'd started, stopping was going to be another story. Jen turned slightly toward Sam and put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently. Sam tried to smile and he played with his beer bottle.

"Too much beer." He whispered, just a little embarrassed to be crying over his brother.

Jen slid her stool right next to Sam and he felt her arm strongly around his shoulders. She whispered to him, "Too many birthdays."

Sam had nowhere else to turn, so he turned to Jen, wrapping his arms around her and allowing his face to bury into her shoulder. Jen held on to Sam tightly and quietly. Sam was glad it was Jen. Jen had been there for all Sam's tough moments since he got to college, although this was the worst so far. Jen didn't push or prod. She was just there, and that was all that Sam really needed. He loved Jess, but she always wanted to try and fix things. She would tell him to call Dean, and as much as Sam wanted to do that, he knew he couldn't.

Jen didn't ask. She didn't talk. She just held on. Soon, Sam felt the pit in his stomach melting away, and he found himself once again in control of his emotions. He loosened his grip on Jen, surprised at tight it had been, and she hadn't even flinched. He pulled himself upright on the stool, drew his hand across his cheeks, and smiled weakly at Jen.

"Sorry." He shrugged.

Jen's eyes smiled, though her face was still. "Don't be," she replied.

Sam looked back at his beer, and, realizing he still had some left, finished it off. As he got down off the stool, he looked at Jen one more time.

"Thanks."

"Any time."

* * *

[Present]

Thinking about the past, Sam began to remember that even though she never asked, telling Jen things seemed to help. Maybe this was another one of those times. Maybe she had hidden away in her brain a philosophical saying that would put all this into perspective for him.

He started to try and speak, "I can't ..." but a lump rose up in his throat and he stopped again. Looking down, trying to find some composure, Sam saw Jen's hand leaning over her lap. At school, whenever he was dealing with something difficult, she always took his hand, and it always seemed to help. Not that there was a good reason for that, but what did Sam have to lose. He reached over and slipped his hand in hers. She gave his a squeeze. He tried again.

"I can't stop thinking about Jess." Sam managed to whisper without tears threatening to appear this time. Jen remained silent, so Sam continued. "And, I mean, there's a logical part of me that realizes that we aren't going to find all the answers right away, but I don't know how long I can go on like this. It's like something is eating away at me, and I can hear her like she's in my ear whispering 'find it' over and over again. It's so hard just sitting here, waiting."

Jen was still silent and the two sat saying nothing for almost a minute. Sam was surprised. "What? No witty philosophical tidbit for me tonight?"

Jen looked at Sam. "There's nothing I need to say." Sam sighed and gave her hand a squeeze. Well, she was there with him. That was something. He looked at her again and she was looking up as Dean walked over. Sam let go of Jen's hand, and she stood up. Sam saw her look at Dean before she walked away. Then he prepared himself for his brother's inquisition.

* * *

The night was nearly over, and they had made it, well except for Roy. Most everyone was sitting at the campsite watching the sun rise, although Jen had wandered off to a large stump facing West and sat against it. Sam saw her go and wondered about it, so he followed her.

He crept up quietly behind her to find her simply sitting and watching the dark sky and smiling.

"You can join me." Jen said. Sam was a little surprised that she had heard him, but he came over and sat beside her anyway.

"What 'cha doing?" He asked.

"Watching the sunrise." Jen replied.

"But the sun is rising over there." Sam pointed behind them to the others.

"But the sunrise is still happening here, only much more subtly and slowly. I've seen the sun rise many times. Sometimes, I like to watch the rest of the sky wake up too. It gives me perspective."

Jen did always have a different way of looking at things, and she had given Sam glimpses into her perspective a few times before. One time in particular came to mind for Sam.

* * *

[May 2005]

"You know what? This is what I do, okay, I go out. I like people, and parties, and I don't need you lecturing me on where I'm going." Jess shouted loudly enough that Sam was certain half the building heard her.

"I just don't think that the Theta Chi house is a really safe place, for anyone, much less a woman alone." Sam said, standing at the door of their bedroom as Jess started down the hallway. He had spent all day asking her not to go this party, and yet she was still absolutely insistent about going.

Jess stopped and turned back toward him, still putting on her earrings. "Then why don't you come along?"

Sam sighed and looked down. "You know I don't fit in with those guys, I always feel weird there."

Jess shrugged. "I gave you options, I'm going. You can come or you can stay, but I'm going." She turned around and headed for the door of their apartment. Sam didn't move. He kept hoping she was bluffing. He heard her shout back toward him. "Last chance."

Then, the door opened and slammed shut.

Sam sunk back onto the bed, hunched over, elbows on his knees. How did he just let that happen? Things had been absolutely wonderful with him and Jess for over a year, and then she asked him to move in. It seemed logical. Jess's only roommate was Jen, who was pretty much Sam's best friend. This way, Sam would have a place to stay for the summer and next year. It lowered the rent for everyone, and Sam had practically been living there all this past spring semester anyway, or at least, every weekend. So, right after classes ended, they happily moved his few belongings into Jess's room.

However, he didn't realize that Jess was going to be so different when he moved in. It was like every habit they had both been able to brush off by going to their separate rooms was suddenly amplified a hundred fold. Almost every day this week had been some tiff or another, and now this. This was just not what he needed right now.

He heard a clinking noise and looked up. Jen was standing in his doorway with two bottles of beer.

"Come out for a drink." She said. It wasn't a question. It rarely was with Jen.

Sam felt pretty defeated, but figured a beer couldn't make it any worse. "Sure, I'll be out in a moment."

Jen smiled at him. "Okay." She was gone again. Sam heard the television turn on. He gathered himself together and stood up slowly. He looked around the empty room. He clenched his fists at his side. She just made him so angry sometimes. Whatever, there was beer waiting for him.

Sam came out to the living room and picked up the open bottle of beer on the coffee table. He downed half of it in one long sip and then banged the bottle down onto the table as he sunk back onto the couch.

"You seem a little miffed." Jen observed calmly.

"You think." Sam responded gruffly. Jen took a good sized sip of her beer and looked over at Sam thoughtfully.

"Just so you know, as far as Jess is concerned, you stayed in your room all night and never talked to me. I'm a good roomie, I can keep my mouth shut."

Sam sighed, although he was glad to hear that. He almost felt like he had been walking on eggshells for the last few weeks. Jen used to be the one he could talk to when things with Jess were tough, but living with both of them, he wasn't sure he could do that. This tiny nugget of relief lasted only a moment as he remembered the situation that brought him here. He took another chug from his beer, and then stood up and started pacing.

"I don't understand what she sees in those Goddamn frat parties! What is wrong with spending the night at home. We could hang out, watch a movie, you know, something normal." Sam sat back down and put the beer to his lips again, but brought it down quickly as his thoughts kept pushing through. "And she knows I don't like those parties and she knows that the guys there, well ... you know!"

Jen had been listening and but then spoke quietly. "You're worried that Jess is flirting with the frat guys?" Sam froze, he felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. Jen had said what Sam had been trying not to think about; she was always able to do that.

Sam sunk back into the couch. He couldn't seem to think straight, so he just kept talking instead. "Sometimes I'm not even sure what she sees in me. We're such different people, and it's just been that much more obvious since I moved in." Sam sat up again, and bent over, burying his head in his hands. "Fuck! I should never have agreed to doing that."

Sam stopped. If he kept talking now he was either going to start sobbing or throwing things, and neither of those would be acceptable even if he was alone, much less with Jen sitting there, good friend or not.

For a moment, there was just silence. Sam focused on breathing deeply and trying not to think about what Jess might be doing. Then, Jen started speaking quietly.

"You know, my last boyfriend was kind of like, my perfect opposite. I'm pretty straight-edge, I follow the rules, I don't like to mess with people. He was a huge prankster, broke all the rules, and got himself in serious trouble. Together though, we were amazing. Things balanced themselves out to give me a fun side, and I tempered his insanity. It can't work perfectly all the time, obviously, but overall, the best relationships do tend to be complements."

Sam thought about that for a moment, and then sat up and looked over at Jen. "What happened to him?" he finally asked.

Jen sighed and a nostalgic look passed across her face. "Suffice to say, we were pulled apart by external forces. I haven't seen him in ages, but he'll always hold a special place in my heart."

Sam was surprised that Jen had opened up about her past at all, typically, she was even more secretive than him, which was saying a lot. He was glad she had, though, because he had no real relationships to compare this to, and had wondered about a lot of things, him and Jess's seeming divergent personalities among them.

He knew that Jen probably knew both him and Jess better than almost anyone, but he also knew that Jen wouldn't beat around the bush with her opinion, so he was a little nervous asking her the next question. "You think me and Jess are good together? You think we can work?"

Sam leaned forward, his hands clenched together in front of him. He loved Jess, he knew that. He also knew that love wasn't necessarily enough to make a relationship work. He was so scared that Jess would get sick and tired of his anti-social behavior sometimes and just toss him out. All of these thoughts and more raced through his head in the moments between asking Jen the question and her giving an answer. He just sat, working to keep his mind still and the tears in his eyes from falling.

Jen reached over and gently placed her hand over Sam's. "Yes, I think you two are great together. You just need your space sometimes, but who doesn't?"

Sam let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and a few of the tears escaped down his cheeks even as he smiled just a bit in relief. He let loose one hand to wipe his eyes and with the other he held Jen's hand tightly.

She gave his hand a squeeze. "Trust Jess, she's not going to hurt you."

Jen spoke with confidence that Sam couldn't help but believe in. He held onto Jen's hand for another moment, knowing that if he tried to talk, even to say okay, he would lose his composure, and Sam didn't do that readily, even in front of only Jen. However, Jen remained quietly with him, and, as she had done in the past, she seemed to almost pull the negative feelings from him and he began to feel better.

After a minute or two, Sam felt safe to talk, and go of Jen's hand. "Thank you." He looked up into her eyes.

Jen just smiled.

He reached over and gave Jen a tight hug. Then they settled back on the couch, beer in hand, and spent the rest of the evening with tv sitcoms and laughter.

* * *

[Present]

Sam thought about everything for a few minutes as they both sat and watched the sky turn from black to red to a pale rainbow to blue. He especially thought about how the things you plan for rarely happen, and the things you don't plan for are often the most important things in your life. The silence lasted a few minutes more.

Jen spoke first. "Well. I'm happy with my perspective for today." She stood up and smiled down at Sam. "You let us know when you've found yours."

It didn't take Sam very much longer.

* * *

**Author's Notes: So, I originally said that I would post these to match the timeline of the show, which I think is a neat idea. Here's the thing, for a while now it gets really sparse, like end of November (Dead in the water), then I don't have anything for Phantom Traveler, then after the New Year (Bloody Mary), just a tidbit in January for Dean's/Jess's birthday, then end of Feb for Skin. So, any thoughts on whether I should dump the timeline idea and just post once a week or so?**


	4. Dead in the Water

**And now, for a moment with Dean, and a tag to Dead in the Water.**

**

* * *

**

Dean stepped out of the bathroom, dry, clean, and clothed after saving Lucas in the lake. Sam and Jen had been sitting in the chairs around the little table in their room talking about something. Dean hadn't heard anything before Sam jumped up to take his turn in the shower, but it looked like serious conversation, not light-hearted banter. That wasn't anything new, though. They were only just barely a month past Jessica's death and Sam was still not the funniest guy to be around. He always seemed more content after talking to Jen though, and if that was what it took, so be it. Dean didn't exactly know how to deal with whatever stage of grief Sam was hanging in lately. It was much too subtle, and too easily set off by the wrong word or even facial expression, and Dean seemed awfully good at setting him off. So, he let Jen and Sam talk. Offered to jump in the shower first because he could tell that Sam wanted to talk. At least he didn't have to talk.

Dean looked over at Jen as he took a seat up on the bed. She was calm; her expression was unreadable, even to him. _Maybe that's how she does it._ Dean thought. _She simply says almost nothing and makes no faces at him. _Dean kept his gaze on her. She matched it. Her eyes showed no signs of struggle, this wasn't a contest. He was just there, and so was she.

Dean had known Jen for a month. In that month, his baby brother's and Jen's two best friend's lives had been destroyed, and she had dropped everything to join him and Sam. Sometimes, in the back of Dean's mind, that still seemed odd to him, but Jen seemed to take to hunting like she already understood it, had done this before, and Dean couldn't ignore that. He also couldn't ignore the fact that without her, he didn't know what he would have done with Sam. Sam and Jen had both lost Jess at the same time, and she understood. The only thing Dean had to compare this to was mom, and he didn't talk about mom. Not even to his grieving brother.

Dean turned his eyes down from Jen's. _She got me this time._ Then he slid down the bed slightly and leaned back, hands behind his head, and shut his eyes.

Mom. Funny, this week he had talked about mom. He had said more to Lucas about his mother than he had said in years to anyone, even Sam. No, especially Sam. When Sam was little, he always asked about mom, and Dean refused to talk about it. "Never ask about Mom!" He had said over and over again. Eventually, Sam got the hint. Dean knew Sam still had questions, even now. Sam got a particular look in his eyes when something relating to mom came up. It was an expectant look, like maybe this time Dean would talk about it. He had seen that look a few times in the past couple of days. Dean brushed it off. Talking about mom with Sam would mean talking about feelings. Dean had avoided those feelings for 22 years, he wasn't going to bring them up now.

Even with his eyes closed, Dean was certain Jen was still watching him. He could feel it. Thinking about it now, she had been watching him during most of this case. Ever since they first found the newspaper article about Lucas's dad. Sam had been reading on the computer, hadn't noticed the look on Dean's face when he heard. Jen had. She had been sitting on the bed, and even stood up and walked over to Sam's side, but was watching Dean. From that point on, her attention was clearly refocused. She even managed to discreetly grab his hand for a moment after the second time he talked to Lucas. That time was much harder, especially with Sam watching and listening. He knew it was the only way to get through to Lucas though.

Dean was suddenly aware of the lump rising up in his throat.

Same thing happened while talking to Lucas. Surprisingly enough, it had dissolved right after Jen squeezed his hand. Good thing too because he knew Sam was going to say something, and he did.

Dean shook his head and started thinking about the bacon cheeseburger he was going to order for dinner. That worked. He opened his eyes again, Jen was still watching him. Same expressionless face, but there was something in her eyes Dean couldn't quite place. Maybe it was a smile. Jen hadn't smiled much since Dean had met her. _Not really much to smile about_. But, whatever it was, she seemed content right now. Dean smiled at her. Her lips curled up just slightly in response. _So, she can smile._

Sam came in, still drying off his hair with the towel, to his brother and Jen sitting and smiling at one another. He looked confused.

"Something funny going on out here?" He asked.

Jen turned toward him, her expressionless look returning, but a sparkle remained in her eyes. "Nope. Nothing funny here but you."

Sam glowered at her and went to comb his unruly hair.

It wasn't until late the next day at a gas stop somewhere in Indiana while Sam was inside buying food and Jen had gotten out to stretch her legs that Dean got up the nerve to ask Jen something he had been wondering.

"Do you know?" He swallowed hard, but continued. "About our mother?"

Jen looked him in the eyes with her customary look, only if what he saw in her eyes before was happiness, then this time it was surely sadness.

"Yes. I know." The gas pump clicked and Dean turned to take care of it. As he was waiting for the receipt, he felt her hand on his back. "She'd be proud of you." Dean stood frozen for a second and Jen silently slipped back into the backseat.

Something in her voice seemed absolutely certain, almost as if she had known his mother. Dean chuckled to himself. _That's crazy, she can't be much older than Sam. He must have talked to her about it._ Dean smiled to himself, suddenly feeling great.

Just then, Sam came back and they got in the car, ready to go. Dean glanced in his rearview, and saw, once again, Jen's smile. He popped AC/DC in the tape deck.

"Let's roll."


	5. Bloody Mary

**Moving ahead to Bloody Mary. I didn't have a story for Phantom Traveler because I didn't think Jen would have gone on the plane.**

* * *

Toledo and Bloody Mary were behind them, and Dean was glad for that, but still concerned about Sam. He wouldn't tell Dean his secret, and Dean was pretty sure from the look that Jen gave from the backseat that Sam hadn't told her either. Dean didn't like it. He figured that whatever this secret was, Sam's nightmares were related to it, and they were clearly not going away. He knew his brother was strong, but watching him suffer wasn't Dean's favorite pastime.

Dean glanced over at the passenger seat. Sam looked fine now. Dean glanced in his rearview mirror at Jen. She was watching Sam and looking concerned still. Then her eyes darted up to Dean's, as if she knew he was looking at her. Dean focused back on the road.

"Time for some tunes." Dean announced hitting the play button on some Metallica. Sam chuckled instead of protesting. Dean took that as a good sign.

The rest of the drive went without incident or troubling thought. The only oddity that Dean picked up was that after lunch he asked Sam if he wanted to drive, and Sam declined saying that he was too tired this time. Jen still had what could have been a concerned look on, but considering her knack for unreadable expressions, it could also have been hunger or happiness. Dean wasn't certain he knew her well enough to tell. She was awfully quiet though, even while Sam and Dean were chatting away.

Late in the evening, they came upon a little town with a motel and diner and stopped for the night. Sam only picked at his dinner, but for Sam that wasn't really unusual.

It was at the motel that Dean finally noticed that Sam was acting funny, almost skittish. When they entered the room, he looked around it once, then started looking down. He didn't jump on his usual bed, instead went to the chair in the corner. He opened up his computer for about a minute, then abruptly closed it and took out a book instead.

Jen had taken a seat on Sam's bed, furthest from the door, and she was writing something in her little notebook. Dean had been flipping channels on the television and keeping an eye on Sam's uncharacteristic actions. Sam had been acting funny lately, but this was a new brand of funny, and Dean didn't like it. He looked over at Jen. She caught his glance, and this time Dean was convinced the expression was worry.

Well, if Dean had learned one thing about Jen over the last few months, it was that she worked better when he wasn't there. Sam seemed to open up better to Jen, and Dean never really felt comfortable with the hand-holding moments anyway. Dean nodded slightly at her, and she gave him a small smile of understanding. He switched off the television.

"That was a pretty good diner for dinner, maybe I'll go back for some pie." Dean said as he grabbed his jacket.

"You mean pie and one blond waitress," Sam quipped from his corner. At least he could joke, whatever was bothering Sam couldn't be that bad.

"Two of my favorite things!" Dean smiled as he headed out the door. Sam was in Jen's hands now, and he was aiming for a slice of lemon meringue.

* * *

Sam realized that Dean had gone, but he was mostly so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't think about why Dean would decide to suddenly leave. Sam was still staring at the book in front of him, but reading the same two sentences over and over again. Jen's voice caught him by surprise.

"Sam, can you do me a favor?" Jen asked sweetly. Sam knew that tone. She knew something was wrong. That's probably why Dean left. Well, Sam wasn't going to give anything away to her that easily, so he replied with a smile.

"Yeah, sure, what do you need."

Jen smiled back at Sam. "Can you get my small blue bag out of the bathroom?"

That was an odd request. She was closer to it than him, and the bathroom was the last place Sam wanted to go. Clearly, this was a test, and refusing the offer would mean failing.

"Sure." He could do this, just as long as he moved quickly and was careful about where he was looking. He successfully emerged from the bathroom with the blue bag and brought it over to the bed. He continued to look down slightly, avoiding Jen's eyes. Sam knew that she could pull things out of him, and he was not sure that he was ready to face this one just yet.

"Thank you. Sit with me for a moment?" She wasn't giving up easily. Sam knew that refusing her would be an opening. He wasn't sure how to avoid talking to Jen, but he was going to give it his best shot. He took a seat up next to her on the bed with his knees up and his arms folded on top of them.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Jen asked. That was more direct than usual. Sam was stunned; that question seemed too easy to answer. Jen usually asked questions that confused him or she made statements that he needed to defend. In this case, all Sam had to do was lie. He could do that, he'd been doing so to Dean for weeks. Dean was the one who usually asked that question, not Jen.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Still pretty tired, but just fine. Really." Sam accompanied that with his best, 'I know you're concerned, but believe me I'm good' smile. He looked at Jen. Her expression hadn't changed, and Sam couldn't tell if she had bought that.

She looked away and reached into the bag. Before Sam realized what she was doing, she flipped open a large compact and put the mirror in front of his face. Sam flinched almost involuntarily than squeezed his eyes shut tight at the image in front of him. Damn, she's good.

"Just fine, huh?" Jen said as Sam heard the compact click closed. He opened his eyes again and remained silent, looking down at his knees. Jen continued.

"I know that you told Dean that you don't want to talk about this, but I think maybe you better talk to me if you want to be able to walk into a bathroom anytime soon." Sam sighed, defeated. He had quickly realized that the Bloody Mary incident got to him even more than he originally thought. He knew that he should have told Jen what was going on with the nightmares, but Jess was Jen's friend too. If Jen knew that Sam could have done something ... oh well. No way to avoid the conversation now.

"I know. I know." Sam said quietly. He lay his forehead down over his folded arms on his knees and stayed silent for a moment. He felt Jen's hand gently rubbing his back. Then, head still down, he began to speak.

"It wasn't Mary in the mirror. I mean, I saw Mary, but when the attack starts it's not her. It was me. I was looking at myself and listening to myself tell me how I killed Jess." Sam's voice started to break as tears filled his eyes. He picked his head up and looked at Jen, her eyes full of compassion. He knew he had to tell her the truth about the dreams happened before Jess died. He knew that he should have talked to her about it when it happened. He had the chance.

* * *

[October 30, 2005]

Sam was nervous.

He was also using every last bit of his deceptive skills not to let Jess know that he was nervous. She had been doing her usual flitting about the apartment, a little cooking, a little cleaning, a little homework. Sam was sitting on the couch, on his computer, waiting.

Finally, the moment he was waiting for arrived. Jess grabbed her coat and headed toward the door.

"Bye, honey, see you after class!"

Sam looked up from the computer and waved. He watched Jess leave and watched the door shut behind her. He listened carefully for her footsteps going down the stairs until he couldn't hear them anymore. Then he got up and went to Jen's bedroom door. It was shut. He stood in front of it for a moment, even more nervous than when he was waiting before.

Suddenly the door opened and Jen was staring at him. She looked at him for a moment. "You want to ask me something."

It was not a question. Sam just nodded. Jen smiled at him. "You might as well come in then." She left the door open and took a seat at her desk, facing sideways toward the bed.

Sam was only a little bit surprised; Jen always had an uncanny sense about him. Sam came in and sat on the bed. He decided to just jump right on into his question before Jen started her philosophy talk on him.

"I need your help." Sam said, looking up at Jen.

"Oh?" She responded.

"I need your help to find a ring for Jess." Sam paused. Jen just looked at him, but with a sparkle in her eyes. He had a feeling she knew what the next line was before he said it, but he spoke anyway. "An engagement ring."

Jen opened up into a huge smile and moved next to Sam and engulfed him in a hug. That time he was really surprised. "I suppose that means you think she'll say yes?" Sam said, returning Jen's embrace.

Jen let go and looked up at Sam. "I know she will." Sam had never seen Jen smile bigger. She started talking.

"Well, okay, then we're going to need to shop, and we're going to need to do it when Jess will be busy, really busy, so she won't notice. I know! She's in the two big numbers in the Cabaret show this weekend, and they are doing their final big rehearsal Thursday night before the show, no way that rehearsal will be less than four hours. So when were planning to pop the question?"

Sam was in a daze; he had never heard so many words come out of Jen's mouth at one time before, and so fast.

"Umm, Thanksgiving." Sam stammered.

Jen beamed again and clapped her hands twice. "Perfect! Oh so great. Okay. Now we just both have to play it cool for a few days … right?" Jen turned to him, her poker face returned, but her eyes dancing.

Sam smiled at her. Suddenly, he wasn't nervous about this at all anymore.

It seemed to take forever to get to 6pm on Thursday. During the day on Thursday, Sam tried to stay busy, and awake. He wasn't sure if it was the nervousness manifesting itself, but Sam was having nightmares again. These weren't of the usual variety either, which tended to be hunting nightmares. These were about Jess. Had to be the nervousness. It was actually the same nightmare over and over again. It started about a week ago, and then returned a few days later, but now it had been for the last two nights.

He was used to nightmares, they came with hunting life, and even though he'd left that life behind, it still trailed along after him at inopportune times. The last few times he had nightmares, he told Jen. This time though, he hadn't. It was the first time since he was living with Jess and Jen, and for some reason he was kind of embarrassed this time. He wasn't sleeping alone like before. It made no sense. Also, Jen had been incredibly busy with the most recent Cabaret Show going on this weekend, so he didn't want to bother her. As for Jess, well, she worried about Sam's life enough being in the dark about his past. He didn't want to give her any more to worry about.

So, Sam grabbed a Mountain Dew and tried to work on one of his papers for his political science class, hoping that the caffeine would be effective. Jess hustled around gathering up remaining costume pieces and doing vocal warm-ups. Finally she shouted a hasty goodbye and flew out the door, a mere two minutes to six, which was when her rehearsal began.

A moment later, Jen emerged from her room, purse and jacket in hand and smile on her face. "Are you ready?" She said.

Sam finished the final sips of Mountain Dew and jumped up off the couch. "Of course!" The two were quickly out the door and off.

They started out with dinner at a local quick service Italian place to discuss the plan. Sam focused on appearing awake and hoped that Jen's excitement would keep her typically highly attuned senses a little off.

"Okay, today is definitely mostly about window shopping. You want to get a lay of the land, see what's out there and how much it costs. There's at least three places right here to check out and two more right next door if you want more options."

Sam leaned his chin on his hand, trying to appear fully awake, but the caffeine hadn't quite kicked in yet. Jen tilted her head at him and squinted. Sam knew he had been found out.

"You seem tired, Sam."

Sam shook his head at Jen. "No, I'm fine. I've just been really busy lately."

"Mhm." Jen crossed her arms in front of her. "Because you look like you do when you're having nightmares, but you would have told me if that happened again, right?"

Sam squirmed just slightly and looked away from Jen. He knew that was a give-away.

Jen sighed. "You don't want to let Jess know. Still, you know I can help."

As usual, Jen figured it all out without Sam having to say a word. Now, he felt tired and guilty. "Yeah, I know." He responded.

Jen smiled at him. "We'll fix it tonight." She reached across the table and put her hand over his. Suddenly she lifted her hand again quickly, as if she had gotten an electric shock or something. Sam thought he saw her face twitch slightly as well. Funny, he hadn't felt anything. She quickly put her hand back down and squeezed Sam's briefly, a smile on her face again as if nothing had happened.

"All right." She said. "Let's get some food and get on with this adventure."

Sam smiled. He had never been happier to be out shopping.

It was a productive evening of window shopping, and actually, Sam wanted to buy something right then, but Jen stopped him.

"Sleep on it." She said. "The best thing to do right now, is take a break and think through what you want."

Sam knew she was right. They returned to the apartment perfectly timed before Jess got home. Just before splitting into their separate rooms for the night, Sam turned back to Jen.

"Thank you."

Jen walked up to him and grabbed him in an unexpected hug. While holding on she said in Sam's ear. "Just tell Jess how much you love her, okay. Make sure you do that." Then she let go and turned, walking away into her room.

That was a little odd, even for Jen, but Sam knew better than to ask. So, he took her advice, on all counts, planning to go out the next week and actually buy the ring.

The next night, Dean showed up.

* * *

[Present]

The memory bombarded Sam and he paused for a moment, gathering just enough composure to tell Jen what he should have months ago.

"I should have told her, I should have warned her, and don't tell me that I couldn't have known what was going to happen, because I did. I dreamt about it before she died, for days, those were the nightmares I was having, and I knew. I knew it was how mom died, and I knew that it was important and meant something, and I ignored it. I ignored it because I just wanted my life to be normal, for our life to be normal, but I can't have that, can I."

Emotion clouded his last words and the tears in his eyes started to fall as Sam felt himself lose control. He buried his head back into his arms. He felt Jen's arm encircle his shoulders, and he gave in and collapsed against her. She wrapped her other arm around Sam and silently held him.

Sam had been holding back a lot recently. Even with the continuing nightmares, it seemed to him that after two months he should be getting over Jessica, or at least not crying about her every night. Although it wasn't just his own Winchester pride that had been at the heart of his resolve to be strong. He couldn't stand the look on Dean's face while he watched Sam's heart break over and over again. He knew that Dean felt hurt and helpless every time he had to see his little brother cry. Sam just couldn't keep doing that to his brother. But Dean wasn't here now, and Sam poured out every guilty feeling he had as he began to sob harder and harder. He gave up trying to talk, to explain, he just let go.

Jen remained, steadfast and silent. Sam wasn't sure how long he was crying for, but at some point the twisted feeling in his gut that he had been carrying around for too long began to diminish, and he was able to breathe normally. That's when Jen finally started to speak.

"I know you feel guilty, like this is all in some way your fault, but I don't believe that. Even if you think you could have done something, you can't know what would have happened. Whatever did this is a powerful being, and I am certain that it would have found a way around anything you could have done or said, and I'm so sorry that it had to happen the way it did, but you can't carry all this blame inside you. Even with what you told me, I still know that you couldn't have saved Jess. Take your own advice, forgive yourself."

They were the same words that he had heard from Dean over the past few days, but suddenly they clicked inside his head. It was almost as if because Jen said it, it had to be true. She believed so strongly, that Sam found it difficult to argue with her voice.

"I know." He whispered. He began to feel incredibly tired, both from the immediate exhaustion but also the nights with little sleep. He shut his eyes. Jen gave him a squeeze.

"You don't need to hide things from me, Sam. I'm here for you. It's what I do. You can always trust me."

Her last words were almost an echo in Sam's head as the fatigue overtook him and he fell asleep, still cradled in Jen's arms.

* * *

After his pie, Dean had flirted his way to a backroom quickie with the waitress on her break. He thought he had been gone long enough, and he was correct. When he returned, he saw Sam lying asleep on the bed still leaning onto Jen. Dean quickly quieted his steps and gingerly shut the door.

"Is he … ok?" Dean asked expectantly, although the content look on Jen's face was most of the answer he needed.

Jen nodded. "I think he'll be much better now. We had a nice talk."

"Anything I should know about?" Dean doesn't necessarily want to be involved in the talking, but he doesn't particularly like being out of the loop either.

Jen smiled at him. "He'll tell you, but it needs to be in his own time. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah I do." Dean sighed, looked at his little brother with a protective glare, and headed into the bathroom. Part of him knew that Sam getting his feelings out was good for him, but part of him hated that there was nothing he could do to alleviate the pain that went with that. He splashed some water on his face and looked up at the mirror and sighed. What had Sam seen in that mirror? He shook his head and headed back out into the room.

Jen had maneuvered herself out from under Sam, who remained asleep, and was standing in the middle of the room when Dean came out. She watched him walk across the room and reached out to grab his hand as he walked past her. She looked him directly in the eyes and spoke solemnly.

"Sam is going to be okay. Believe that. He needs you to."

The words caught Dean by surprise for a moment. He hadn't realized just how much his worry could be difficult for Sam to handle, on top of everything else. Dean paused for a moment in thought. He looked into Jen's eyes and saw that she cared almost as much for Sam as Dean did. He could only think of one way to fully express his gratitude for what she had done for Sam so far, and Sam was asleep, so he felt safe in letting Jen's hand go and wrapping his arms around her in a quick, but heartfelt, squeeze.

"Thank you." He whispered just before letting go. Then, to avoid a moment, Dean hurried off to get himself together for bed. When he looked up again, Jen was settled into the armchair in the corner, smiling. Dean smiled back just before drifting off.

* * *

**My continued thanks for readers. Skin in about two weeks!**


	6. Skin

Sometimes, Sam still didn't understand Jen. Sometimes, he wondered if he ever really did. She didn't object to checking out Zach's case, but when they arrived in town she asked to go to the motel instead of going with Sam to meet up with Becky.

"It's easy for you to explain what you are doing. It would be much harder to explain why I'm still with you. Don't mention me." She had said, simply and without emotion.

"Wasn't Zach your friend too?" Sam asked. He thought about the situation for a moment. "Do you keep in touch with anyone from Stanford?" He asked.

"No." Jen said simply.

Dean piped up when he heard that. "She's got the right idea."

Jen's glare to Dean was hard and surprisingly unlike her. "I have my reasons, and they do not relate to you or Sam."

Sam had never seen Dean shut up so quickly. That was essentially the end of the conversation. Jen turned back to her book and Dean turned up the music.

When they did drop her off at the motel, Sam went inside with her briefly. He was a little concerned about her. She had never acted this way before, or gotten angry at Dean like that. He stood by the door as she dropped her bag off in the bathroom. When she came back out she looked at Sam, her gaze softer. She walked over to him and smiled.

"I'm fine, Sam. You will be too." Her certainty made Sam feel at ease about the whole thing. He had been a little nervous about meeting with someone from Stanford now, after getting back into hunting. He thought about it, and Jen was right. The less explanation, the better. He smiled at Jen, and went back out to Dean. They had someone to help.

* * *

They walked in the door of the motel after taking down the shapeshifter, and Jen jumped the moment she saw them.

"What have you two done to yourselves now?" She muttered as she started examining various cuts and bruises. She was looking up at Sam's face, but he didn't really need a nurse right now, he needed a friend. Even though he knew that it was the shapeshifter, seeing 'Dean' attacking him had been more mentally painful than any of the actual wounds he had received. Sam ignored Jen's concerned glare and wrapped his arms around her in a relieved hug. After a second, she reciprocated.

Dean had already gone to the bathroom to begin cleaning himself up. Sam clung to Jen just a few seconds longer before letting go and giving her a weak smile. She looked up at him. "You'll be alright, Sam. You both will." She quickly turned to go dig out the first aid kit.

Sam watched her grab the kit and begin to clean his cuts. Once again, without possibly knowing what happened out there, she had said exactly what he needed to hear.

Jen refused to listen to any of the story that night. She made it clear that the boys needed their sleep and there would be plenty of time in the morning. Dean certainly wasn't arguing, and Sam knew that once Jen made up her mind, there was no changing it. He still had thoughts about what the shapeshifter said swimming through his head, but he thought about Jen's words earlier words, put the thoughts aside, and fell fast asleep.

The next morning, Sam awoke long before Dean. He looked around and saw Jen awake in the chair writing something in her notebook. She looked up and smiled at him. Sam dragged himself up and took a shower.

When he came out Jen was wearing her wrap and waiting for him. "I thought maybe we'd get something to eat." She said. Sam wasn't really hungry, but he wanted to tell Jen what had happened, so he agreed. While they walked, he began to tell her the story of the shapeshifter. He covered most of the major points quickly, and skimmed over the parts he didn't really want to think about, the part where the shapeshifter said that Dean was jealous of him and afraid everyone would leave him and then the part where Sam just barely held himself together while what looked like his big brother threatened and attacked him. Jen remained silent until the end.

"That must have been really hard, having to essentially fight your own brother." She said quietly when Sam was done.

Sam sighed. Leave it to Jen to pick out the worst part. Sam swallowed hard. "Yeah." He muttered. Jen continued.

"And the shapeshifter actually was able to steal information from Dean's mind. He probably used that against you as well."

Damn! How does she do that? Sam couldn't immediately respond to that. He really wanted to know how much of what the shapeshifter said was true. Did Dean really want something more with his life? Did he resent Sam for going to college? He couldn't believe that Jen's simple statement was making him think so hard about this. Tears began to prick at his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, you know. I'm not really that hungry and I should probably call Becky before we leave, maybe I should head back."

Jen stopped and turned to Sam. She looked into his eyes and he had to turn his gaze down and away from her. She wasn't saying a word, but he could tell that she knew there was more to the story he hadn't told.

"You should eat something. After what happened, I'm amazed you have any energy left." She turned around again and pointed. "Look, a Panera, perfect."

Sam let out a sigh of relief. Good. No more. At least not now. The two gathered the appropriate sweet goodies and coffee-related beverages and headed back to Dean without further conversation about the case.

* * *

"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?" Dean smiled at Sam. He returned the smile, finally beginning to relax. He knew that Dean meant his apology. He really wished that Sam hadn't been forced back into this life. Sam had meant what he said too. It had been hard keeping these secrets for three years, especially from Jessica. Sam had always felt like an outsider. Probably would have stayed that way if not for Jen's prodding to get him involved.

As if she heard his thoughts, Sam felt Jen's hand gently squeeze his shoulder. He reached up and squeezed her hand back, just once. When he let go, Sam smiled again. They saved his friends and killed the bad guy. Yeah. This was a good day.


	7. Hookman

Sam shook his head at Dean's question. No. He definitely did not want to stay. He was starting to feel pretty confused, and staying couldn't possibly make that better. Dean probably thought this was good for him. Lori has been a nice girl, and they definitely had a connection, and that kiss ...

_No!_ It had only been four months since he lost Jess. How can he possibly even think about another girl. What would Jess think? Actually, Jess would probably tell him to move on and try to be happy. That was the way she was. That didn't work for Sam, especially not with Jess's killer still out there.

_Crap._ Sam felt the inevitable pit in his stomach and lump in his throat. He had been doing so well; he felt like maybe he was actually getting past all this and able to function, and then just as suddenly there it all was again. The tears were building in his eyes and his breath caught for a second. _Not here, please?_

He felt Jen's touch on his upper arm, a small squeeze. Slowly she slid her hand down his arm and Sam didn't hesitate to firmly grasp her hand. He shut his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths using Jen's touch to steady himself. For about the millionth time in the last four months, Sam silently thanked God for her presence. He knew she would get him through this.  


* * *

  
Dean glanced back at Jen in the rearview mirror. He could tell that Sam was not taking this well, although he wasn't quite sure what _this _was. He could only assume it was about Jessica. Dean wanted to see Sammy move on, but after only a few months, he realized that maybe it was actually too soon.

Jen was sitting up forward on the seat, which meant that she was keeping a close eye on Sam. However, every time he caught her eye in the mirror she just smiled at him, so he figured that whatever was going on, she must have it under control. Sam remained quiet for a while. At one point Dean noticed Sam had his eyes shut. Zepplin played Houses of the Holy through the speakers, and Dean started singing along. Someone in this car might as well have a good time. They did save the girl after all.

"You have quite a knack for putting on the most ironic pieces of music sometimes." Dean heard Sam chuckle from his side of the car. Dean glanced at his brother, still looking a little down, but trying to give him a smile. He looked back at Jen again, and she had relaxed back against the door with her book. She looked up briefly and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "See, I knew it."

Dean smiled broadly. "You just like to rip on Zep." Yup. Things were back to normal.  


* * *

  
Sam had done a good job of pushing the whole Lori/Jess dilemma to the back of his mind during the drive and dinner stop and even through Dean's insistence on watching Mannequin on the television. Dean's taste in movies left much to be desired.

In the quiet and the dark though, the impact of his encounter with Lori began to resurface. Dean was clearly out cold, sprawled on his bed. Sam couldn't see Jen in the darkness, but he hadn't heard her move in a while, so he guessed she was also asleep.

For the first time in a couple of weeks, Sam really started to think about Jess again. He hadn't quite been able to fully shake the awful twinge of guilt he felt after kissing Lori, but it seemed to him that remembering Jess was probably the best way. So, he allowed his mind to drift back to her. He could feel her skin under his fingers and smell the scent of her shampoo in her dirty blond hair. Soon, the tears that he had worked to hold back before were falling onto the white motel pillow that Sam clutched tightly, trying to be silent.

After a moment, he heard a rustle across the room followed by quiet footsteps. Jen. Dean's steps were far louder. Sam wasn't surprised that she was awake. Jen had terrible insomnia, she seemed to be awake at all hours when they lived together. She was slipping past his bed and flipped the light on in the bathroom. Sam heard water run briefly. He wondered if Jen would notice him. Part of him wanted more than anything for her to hear him, come over and make things better like only Jen seemed to know how to do. The other part of him, and the currently winning part, was embarrassed. It had been weeks since he'd been up crying in the middle of the night. Shouldn't he be over this by now? He knew that his breathing was going to sound ragged and shifted slightly to try and muffle that and the small sniffle from his now running nose as Jen walked past again.

His attempts failed. Jen paused just between Sam and Dean's beds then slowly turned toward him. She listened carefully and took two steps in his direction.

"Sam? Are you awake?" She whispered. A small wave of panic hit Sam and he tried to curl up just a bit tighter. Sam realized too late that any movement was just more of a tip-off to Jen that he was awake. She crept up to his bed and gently put a hand on his shoulder. Just feeling Jen's touch made Sam shudder and he allowed a small sob to be heard. "Oh, Sam." Jen said as she climbed up to sit next to him on the bed.

The embarrassed part of Sam was quickly drowned out both by Jen's presence and the sadness that threatened to overtake him again. She brushed his hair back out of his eyes with one hand and with the other gently rubbed Sam's shoulder. He reached up and grabbed her hand, holding on tightly.

"I miss Jess." He managed to eke out a whisper before it turned into another sob.

"It's okay," Jen said soothingly, "I'm here."

Sam finally just gave in to all the pain and the sadness and the sobs, although he remained conscious of being too loud since Dean was still asleep nearby. Jen just sat with him calmly running her fingers through his hair and letting him squeeze her hand as hard he needed to.

After a while, the tears began to dry up and the pit Sam's stomach had finally disintegrated. He let go of Jen's hand and turned to face the ceiling, wiping off his face, Jen still beside him. He sniffed as he looked up at Jen and whispered, "Sorry."

Jen's eyebrows pulled together. "You should never be sorry for your feelings." Her face relaxed again as she continued. "Loss hurts. Time doesn't usually change the fact, just the intensity. And I'm always here for you if you want me." Sam smiled just a bit at Jen, ever the philosophy major. He appreciated it. He wished he could let her know how much. He said what he could.

"Thanks." Suddenly, Sam felt exhausted and started drifting off to sleep.

"Anytime." Jen's response was the last thing Sam remembered before morning.


	8. Bugs

**Authors notes: Bugs is a terrible episode overall (and I hate, hate, hate bees which doesn't help), but it has some really important little threads that I thought needed exploring. The first piece happens mid-episode the evening they squat in the house. **

* * *

After scouting the house for a bit, Dean quickly claimed the master bedroom and announced he was going to bed. Sam was still feeling very uneasy about everything that had happened earlier with Matt and then with Dean. Especially since this was the first time Jen had really heard much about Dad and Dean and his childhood. He was sitting on the bed in one of the other bedrooms thinking about it when he heard a tap against the door frame. He looked up to see Jen standing there. She spoke.

"Awfully deep in thought over there."

It was clearly a statement, not a question. Coming from Jen, though, Sam heard it as an invitation, if he wanted to accept it, to let her listen to those thoughts. He paused for a moment. He had spent three years hiding his whole childhood and family issues from her and everyone else at Stanford. Trying to talk about it now seemed strange, but not letting her know was going to leave her in the dark if this came up again, which it appeared likely that it would.

"I've never told you about me and my Dad, have I?"

Jen quietly shut the door and sat beside Sam on the bed.

"No. You haven't."

"Yeah, we didn't exactly get along. He wanted me hunting and I wanted to be doing pretty much anything else. We fought about it a lot, and it just escalated over the years as I got older. By the time I left for college, we could barely speak without getting into a fight."

Sam suddenly felt all the anger that he had backed off from, avoided, and hidden for all his years at Stanford. Before he could even stop to try and reason with himself, words began to tumble from his mouth.

"Those last few years were the worst. It was as if nothing I did was ever good enough for him. I aced three or four different schools, made sports teams, won academic bowls, but he always found something to complain out. I didn't clean the rifle correctly or I wanted to study instead of hunt. He didn't care about what I wanted to do, just drills and orders. Then, when I left, he didn't even call to check up on me, ask about classes, nothing. He didn't care what I was doing at all if it wasn't hunting."

Sam finally stopped and looked down at his hand which he had balled into a fist and was now pounding down on his leg. His vision blurred slightly as tears filled his eyes, but he quickly tried to blink them back. He felt Jen's hand slip over his, and he loosened his fist and grasped her smooth, gentle fingers. Sam shut his eyes and the tears in them overflowed and slid down his cheeks. He wiped them away with his free hand, and took a couple of deep breaths, calming himself using Jen's grasp as a place to ground himself. He could almost feel his anger seep out through his hand into her, but no, he wouldn't want to put that on her. Still, it didn't take long for the anger to dissipate and for him to relax again.

Sam opened his eyes and gave Jen's hand a squeeze and turned to try and give her a smile. She gave him a return smile, and unclasped her hand from his. Then she put her arms around him in a hug. Sam wasn't expecting that, but once he was enveloped in her arms, he felt the pure acceptance of who he was that he has only ever really felt from Jen. She never prodded him to change or asked him for information he didn't want to give. She was just there, and, usually, right when she was most needed. He accepted the gesture and squeezed her tight in return. He held on just long enough to be certain that he would be alright, including rubbing a few more spare tears into Jen's shoulder, though he wouldn't have admitted that aloud.

When Sam let go, Jen smiled at him again and said. "You should sleep." Sam suddenly felt incredibly tired and nodded at Jen. He barely remembered crawling into bed and her leaving. He slept until he heard the ambulance go by in the morning.

* * *

The bugs were gone and the sun had never looked so wonderful. Sam just stared for a few minutes before Dean tapped his shoulder.

"We should probably catch a few hours of sleep somewhere." Sam nodded in agreement. Dean cracked one of his grins. "Steam shower?"

Sam sighed and raised his eyebrows at his brother. Dean rolled his eyes but responded, "Yeah, I'd rather not be here anymore either." Dean headed toward the Impala. Sam felt a hand on his back as Jen came up alongside him.

"Long night." She said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. Yeah it was." Jen slipped her arm through his and began to lead Sam back to the car.

They made their way to a nearby motel. Sam still felt really out of it. So many things were floating around in his head, having watched Matt and his father come together during the crisis, and thinking about what Dean told him, how his own father was scared of him being away at Stanford. Although the hardest piece of information was that his father had actually been to Stanford, multiple times, to check on him. He had no idea what to make of that revelation. For three years of school, he kept wanting to call his Dad and Dean, and ask them to come, but never thought they would. Now, that whole part of his world was just turned completely around in the last twenty-four hours, and having no sleep wasn't helping Sam deal with that.

He found his way into the motel room and onto his bed without saying a word to either Dean or Jen. They probably exchanged several looks in the process as Sam knew they often did when he acted funny. He wasn't looking at either of them.

"I'm going to hop in shower." Dean said as soon as they all were inside.

Sam muttered, "Mhm," and Dean disappeared into the bathroom.

Finally, without the presence of his big brother, something inside Sam that he had been holding onto for the last day snapped and he pulled his knees up to his chest as sobs began to shake his shoulders. Within seconds he felt an arm move around him and the warmth of Jen's body next to his. He didn't try to move, just sort of fell sideways onto Jen's shoulder. For a moment, Sam remembered thinking that he didn't mean to put this on her. He wanted to explain somehow, but couldn't form even a single word.

Jen's voice whispered softly into his ear. "Shhh. I've got you. Don't worry about it." As usual, her ability to practically read his thoughts was uncanny, and much appreciated.

He didn't know how long he was crying for. It couldn't have been too long because Dean was still in the bathroom when Sam's breathing finally started to normalize, but the shower was off and Sam knew Dean would be out soon. He didn't really care, much. Dean still gave him lots of leeway since Jess, and there was no reason to suggest that this was something completely different. Sam remained on Jen's shoulder and shut his eyes. He heard Dean come in, and then heard him get into his bed and shut off the light. Jen reached over and got the other light, and Sam soon fell asleep, still leaning on Jen.

* * *

Dean didn't sleep very long. Just a couple hours or so, and when he woke up, Sam was laying in his bed and Jen was sitting in the chair next to the window reading.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Dean whispered. Jen just shrugged. Dean threw some clothes on and headed for the door, but stopped and turned to Jen. "You want to get some coffee with me?" Jen smiled and grabbed her wrap following Dean out the door.

Dean had been trying to incorporate Jen more and more, even though he wasn't necessarily used to that. This time, however, he kind of wanted to know what the hell happened with Sam a few hours earlier. He wasn't exactly sure how to bring it up.

They only went to the convenience store next to the motel, and were walking back with their coffee. When they got back to the door, Jen stopped for a second.

"Why don't we stay out here for a bit. That way Sam can sleep a little longer."

"Okay." Dean agreed, and the two leaned against the railing outside their door.

For moment, both were silent. Then, Dean dove right in. He knew they probably didn't have much time before Sam woke up anyway.

"So, earlier, with Sam ... that wasn't a Jess thing, was it?"

Jen smiled. "You are more astute than Sam would like to think you are."

Dean noticed that she didn't technically confirm his statement, but he was certain from her response that he was right, so he pushed onward. "It's been this whole thing about Dad that we've been going on about, right?"

"For three years, Sam felt like he was abandoned. Now he knows differently."

"I would never abandon Sam, and neither would Dad. He should know that."

"Knowing the facts about something and how you feel about it are two different things."

Dean sighed. _Why does she always talk in riddles? _He thought that he understood her though. Just because they wouldn't abandon Sam doesn't mean he didn't feel abandoned. It's not like Sam and his Dad spoke to each other during that time. _Crap._

Dean though for a moment and then continued. "So, Sam is probably feeling pretty bad about what he's been saying about Dad for a while."

"He never talked about your Dad at college."

Well, at least Sam wasn't out complaining to everyone about it. That means that he had probably been holding onto his anger about the whole college debacle silently all this time. _Wow. No wonder he broke down like that_.

"I guess that explains a lot." Dean finally said.

Jen turned to Dean. "Yes. I'm going back inside now."

Dean looked at Jen. "I'll be in in a moment."

Jen smiled at him. "Gotcha." Then she quietly went in the door.

Dean sighed. He still had a lot to learn about Sam from the years they were apart. Well, at least Jen seemed to be interested in helping him out. He couldn't really ask for more out of her than that. Well, and keeping him out of the chick flick moments. This one was probably over anyway, at least for now. Dean certainly wasn't going to bring it up again. Sam deserved a break from it anyway.

Dean finished his coffee and went back inside.


	9. Home

**Home**

Dean was driving to Lawrence, Kansas. He still couldn't really believe it. There was so much information to process: Sam's dreams about Jessica before she died. Wow. And apparently, he told Jen about them at some point, because she clearly knew what Sam was talking about. Dean didn't like being left in the dark on secrets between Jen and Sam. It made him very uneasy. He was just starting to get used to Jen, too, and now this.

Okay, that was probably a little bit harsh. Sam should have told him. This wasn't necessarily Jen's fault. Dean also had to admit to himself that he had been a bit distant with Sam during some of the hardest times because he had no idea what to say when Sam was dealing with the worst of the grief over Jessica, and Jen was much better at that. Actually, this was probably Sam's big secret back when they summoned Bloody Mary. He really was glad he didn't have to deal with that. Okay. Still, Sam should have told him before this.

Lawrence. _Fuck_. Dean wasn't sure that he could do it. Actually go back to that house where that thing took his mother away. He knew he had to. The last thing he wanted to do was to let that thing kill anyone else if he could stop it. It had already destroyed too many lives. Hell, it ruined Sam's chances at a normal life twice now. _Save the people. Kill the monsters. _Keep repeating.

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror. He caught Jen's eyes. She gave him a small smile. The same one she gave him on many occasions to let him know that Sam would be okay. It felt different this time though, like maybe it was him that she was referring to. He hoped so. Right now, he was feeling pretty far from okay.

He kept on driving.

* * *

Dean closed the phone and looked at it. He took in a slow breath and blinked the tears in his eyes back. He had to be strong for Sam. He had to.

Dean suddenly noticed a presence behind him and felt soft fingers reach around his other hand. He knew it was Jen. How did he let her get this close without realizing she was there? He had to get his head straight. He glanced back to be sure it was her, but turned quickly away again. He didn't want her to see him like this. Dean Winchester didn't get scared of fire and ghosts. At least, not the Dean that Jen had known so far.

Her hand was still wrapped around his, and Dean's anxiety started to get the better of him and he nervously grasped her hand, squeezing it hard at first, and then backing off as he tried to compose himself.

"You can do this." Jen said to him, only just loud enough to be heard. "Trust me, we can do this together."

Something in Jen's words seemed to strike a chord with Dean. He believed her, though he didn't know why. He turned to Jen again, this time silently thanking her with both a look and another squeeze of her hand. He knew that she wouldn't tell Sam about this. He didn't know how he knew, he just did.

Then he straightened and pulled himself back together, stoic and ready to go. He let go of Jen's hand and she walked away. Dean waited for just a moment before he returned to Sam and the Impala.

* * *

Sam couldn't believe what he had just seen. It was his mother, and she spoke to him. His mother that he had never known, never seen except in pictures, standing in front of him, but only for a moment. She was there and then she was gone again. The woman he had wondered and dreamed about his whole life walked right up to him and apologized, then disappeared in flames.

Sam was no longer being pinned to the wall, but he hadn't yet recovered from the shock of what had just happened. Jen squeezed his hand. He glanced at Dean who had moved now to the space his mother once stood in.

The emotions running through Sam were overwhelming, and the only response that he could manage was to turn to Jen who immediately wrapped her arms around him as tears blurred his vision. He knew that right now he had to calm the thoughts in his head. He could figure this all out later. For right now, though, it really was over.

Dean turned back around and walked toward Sam and Jen. Sam took a breath, and picked his head up, and wiped his eyes.

"We should let Jenny know it's safe," Dean said, and then he headed out the door. Jen looked at Sam. He nodded at her that he was okay, and they followed Dean out. As he watched Dean walk away, closing down like Dean does, Sam suddenly wondered how Dean would handle this. Based on Sam's past experiences, Dean's coping mechanisms weren't usually healthy. He sighed, hoping that they would manage this, hoping Dean would do something other than getting drunk and angry.

* * *

Dean couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd thought about his mother before, seen many pictures, but her standing right there, saying his name. That was simply too much. He kept trying to refocus. He started on Dad's journal again, but it immediately began referencing his mother so he shut that quickly. He borrowed Sam's computer for a bit to look up news stories, but he'd start reading and end up thinking about her again.

He looked over at Sam. Sam seemed surprisingly good for his first ever encounter with his mother, considering it was in spirit form. He wasn't exactly happy, but he wasn't exactly collapsing. That was good. Dean didn't know what he would have done if Sam had broken down after this. He was having enough trouble holding himself together.

_This is crazy. Why am I still thinking about this?_ Dean got up from the computer and went over to his guns to see if anything needed to be cleaned. They didn't.

He walked back across to the computer. He stared at the screen for a few moments._ I gotta get the hell out of here. Nothing more calming than a cold beer, or six, right?_ Dean stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"I gotta get a drink or something, I'll be back later."

Dean was out the door and on his way to the Impala hopefully faster than Sam or Jen could react.

He knew he was wrong when he heard the click of boot heels behind him. Jen._ Dammit! _Freakin' full motel parking lot forcing him to park over 100 feet away.

"Oh no," Dean said, not even turning around to face her. "I do not want to talk about this. No sharing my feelings, movie-of-the week kind of crap here."

"You don't have to talk about anything," Jen replied. "How about just listening for a moment."

Dean knew that he wasn't going to be able to shake her off easily. He figured he could pretend to hear her out and then get on with his drinking plan.

Dean reached the Impala and opened the door. "Fine." He said as he motioned for her to get in the passenger seat. If he was going to listen, it was going to be in the safety of his car. Jen quickly joined him.

"I know that Sam and I do a lot of this talking thing you don't like, and I know that's not your thing." Jen paused and sighed. Then looked over at Dean. He maintained his gaze straight ahead, avoiding Jen's dangerously probing eyes. She continued.

"However, that does not make this situation any less important to you. It doesn't mean that I don't realize exactly how much this is affecting you and how hard it is, and Sam knows it too. You can't hide from your little brother and it doesn't make him any safer. I also know that no matter how it is that you want to deal with this, you shouldn't try to do it alone. This is bigger than any of us, and you know it, and going off drinking by yourself isn't going to help. I'm here. Let me be here with you."

Dean was trying to block Jen out, but somehow her voice was drowning out the Zeppelin in his mind. _How does she do that?_ Bringing up Sam, too, that's practically playing dirty. No. No way. Dean does not crack. Not because of what some girl said to him.

The words were sinking in, though, and her eyes seemed to bore right into him even though he refused to look at her. He sighed hard, arms folded, looking down. Jen inched closer to Dean. His attempts to block were now failing completely, and the vision of his mother had found her way back into Dean's thoughts. He bit his lower lip as his chin started to tremble. _No!_ Dean took in a breath and remained silent and stoic.

"Dean." Jen kept speaking, still staring Dean down as he continued to refuse to meet her gaze. "It's okay to feel sad sometimes. She was your mother. It's okay to miss her."

_Shit._ Dean thought. _Why did she have to say that. Anything but that._ He shut his eyes as he remembered a time that was years ago, although suddenly it felt like yesterday.

* * *

Dean was six and pushing Sam, two, around in a stroller. Sam looked like he was enjoying himself, but Dean was angry. John had asked Dean to push his brother for a bit. Dean looked around and said to John, "But, only mommies push strollers." John asked, "Please, take care of your brother." Dean complied, but he was unhappy. It seemed that everywhere he went there were lots of mommies and him and his Dad. Dean couldn't understand why his mommy wasn't there and couldn't understand why his daddy got so sad when he asked about his mom and wouldn't talk to him about it. When Dean would get mad and cry, John would say, "You need to be a good boy and help me with Sammy." So, Dean did as he was told, and pushed his brother around the park.

Sam suddenly threw the toy he was playing with to the ground. Dean stopped, grabbed it and looked over at Sam, "Don't throw!" he shouted and showed him the toy. Sam grabbed it and threw it again and laughed. Dean huffed and picked up the toy again. This time he showed it to Sam and then put it in his pocket. Sam looked startled and then started crying. Dean went back to the stroller and started pushing again.

"Stupid little brother." He muttered to himself.

A little girl came up to Dean and said, "My mommy says that not sharing isn't nice. You should share with your brother, he's cute." The girl tickled Sam and he cooed at the attention. Dean got madder. "Well, if you like him so much, how about I trade you my brother for your mommy?" The girl stopped and said, "That's silly, why would I give you my mommy?" Then she ran away. Dean stopped and thought for a moment and decided maybe this deal was a good idea. He started asking other people if they would like his brother for their mommy. No one else thought it was a good idea.

Dean walked up to a pretty woman on a bench. She looked about the same age as Dean remembered his mother looking, but she had dark, long hair instead of light, and she was wearing a black skirt and blue blouse. She looked at Dean, and she seemed friendly and not mean or scary. He looked right at her and said, "If I gave you my brother, would you be my mommy?"

She smiled at him. It was a nice smile. Then she asked "Why do you need a mommy?"

Dean stopped and thought about this for a moment. Then he said, "My mommy used to tuck me in at night, and kiss my boo-boos, and would hold Sammy when he cried so I didn't have to."

The woman lifted herself off the bench and sat on the ground in front of Dean. She looked at him, now on eye level, and spoke gently. "It sounds like you miss your mommy."

Dean looked away, back toward Sam, and said, "No. Daddy says that I just have to learn how to do things without a mommy now."

"How does that make you feel" the woman asked.

Dean looked back at her and mustered up as much confidence as a six-year-old could. "I feel like an important big brother who takes care of his little brother."

"Did your daddy tell you that too?"

"Yes."

The woman reached out and took Dean's hand. He liked her hand. It was soft. Not like Dad's. She spoke to him again. "How do you feel when your Daddy isn't around?"

Dean looked around nervously, but he didn't see his father anywhere. He wanted to talk to this woman. She wanted to hear what he felt. Dad never wanted that. He swallowed, then suddenly started stammering. "I ... I miss my mommy and want her back, but Daddy says I shouldn't feel that way because she's not coming back and I should try to do things to feel better." Dean looked down and realized his eyes were all wet. That was bad. Daddy didn't like it when Dean cried, so he tried not to.

The woman carefully took Dean's other hand and he looked back to her as she spoke. "I know it's not what your Daddy says, but it's okay to feel sad sometimes. She was your mother. It's okay to miss her." Dean started sniffling as a few tears rolled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. "Do you want to sit with me for a bit?" The woman asked. Dean nodded yes as lots of big tears started coming down his cheeks. The woman pulled him into her lap and put her arms around him and just held him for a few minutes. Sam watched, but remained quiet.

Dean knew that Dad wouldn't like this, but he liked this woman and felt safe sitting in her lap. After sitting for a while, he realized that he didn't really feel that sad anymore. He heard Sam start making noises from the stroller and looked up at him.

"Oh, I think Sam wants his toy" Dean jumped up and pulled the toy out and gave it back. Sam smiled and made happy two-year-old noises. Dean came back over and looked at the woman again. She smiled at him. He liked her smile, she was pretty.

"So, do you feel better now?" She asked.

Dean thought for a moment, and then said, "Yes. I like Sam. I think I'd rather keep him." Then Dean smiled at the woman and ran off with Sam in tow.

* * *

Dean opened his eyes. Twenty years ago. That was the last time that Dean had honestly cried for his mother. Years came and went, and Dean was always the strong one. The one who helped Dad back from the bar in November and made him coffee. The one who explained to Sam why their family was better than those with mothers.

But he still remembered. He remembered the woman who told him it was okay to feel sad, and the relief he felt afterwards that he never really felt again as he learned to push all those feelings aside and then learned to drown them in alcohol.

How Jen knew what to say and knew how it would affect him, Dean had no idea. Though, as he turned and looked in Jen's eyes, he felt the same as he remembered feeling when he was six looking at the woman in the park. She cared about him, and she wanted to help him. Of course, that woman was much older than Jen, and that was twenty years ago.

Dean was quickly losing the battle to maintain his composure with all the memories hitting him at once in an entirely indescribable way. He shut his eyes and put his hand down beside him to try and steady the trembling that had begun from his efforts to hold back.

He felt her hand, smooth and soft, move carefully on top of his. That final touch was all he could take in this state, and he opened his eyes, full of tears staring up at the ceiling, trying to defy gravity for even just a few more milliseconds.

"Fuck." Dean managed to spit out before the tears started to fall. He didn't even try to object as Jen slid next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gently leaned him in toward her. As promised, she didn't talk, he didn't talk. They just sat. Soon, Dean turned toward Jen, wrapping his arms around her body and stifling his sobs into her shoulder while she gently rubbed his back.

Dean never even realized that he still held all of that inside of him, but it made sense. Dean always had someone else to look after, his dad or his brother. There wasn't really anyone looking out for Dean. By the time Sam was old enough to be there for his brother, their mother's death was so long ago that it didn't seem possible to Sam that Dean had anything to share. There were signs: occasional nightmares, pictures Dean didn't want to look at, but it was never the right time, and Dean never wanted to talk about it, especially not with his little brother.

Why this girl, this almost stranger, was able to pull out of Dean something that he had kept buried for most of twenty years, he had no idea. He just knew that the walls he had put up didn't seem able to keep her out. She knew what to say, how to say it, and he couldn't argue. He felt just like he did when he was six, like maybe he should listen, maybe this person was right even though everything else was telling him otherwise.

So he did finally let go, and it hurt like hell, but, yet, it felt good, and he knew it was the right thing to do.

Dean cried for a while. Jen never moved or wavered. Once the tears were finally exhausted, Dean pushed himself up and wiped his eyes. "Wow." He said. Then he turned to Jen who just looked at him as if nothing had happened. Dean cleared his throat, and gave Jen a weak version of his winning smile. "So, uh, this was totally between us, right? I mean, if Sammy knows something's up, he'll definitely want to share some feelings and I don't think I want to go there."

"I won't say a word" Jen replied. Dean knew that she meant it. He looked at her once more, completely serious, and said, "Thanks."

Jen smiled and replied. "Any time."

For a few more moments, the two sat in the Impala, taking in the silence of the evening. Finally, Dean opened his door and left, heading back toward the room. Jen followed just behind. Dean turned around and shouted back, "You know, I was going to get a drink. You totally owe me a beer now!"

Jen laughed. "You know I'm good for it."

He did.


	10. Faith

Sam left the hospital and pulled out his phone. "Jen, something's happened to Dean." He only got that far when his voice began to crack. He rushed through the rest. "We're in Windsor, Missouri. I need you."

Sam closed the phone and headed out the door and back to the motel.

_Goddammit! Why did Jen have to leave? _Sam thought back for a moment, all the way to Illinois about two weeks ago when she had abruptly left just before their night in the Roosevelt Asylum. It was strange. She had gotten a phone call, looked very concerned, and said that she had to go, it was a family emergency. Sam had never even heard about her family before. Jen didn't seem upset or anything, she just left and said she didn't know when she would be back, but she would. She had that look about her that neither Sam nor Dean dared to ask questions. She had sent Sam a few texts that she was still alive and still busy, but she never replied to his responses.

Sam missed her after the asylum incident more than he wanted to admit, and he really could have used her grounded guidance when Dad called. Sam laughed to himself. What would Jen have said about him running off to go after Dad? Sam didn't know. Still, Sam got back and saved Dean.

Dean. _Fuck. _Sam's eyes filled with tears and he blinked hard and walked fast._ I can find a way to save Dean. I can._

Two hours later, Sam's head was still buried in his computer, and he jumped when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"It's me, I'm here" Jen's voice was on the other end.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Jen? How did you get here so fast?"

"I was just starting on my way to meet you when I got your message, and it turned out I was nearby, more or less. Where are you exactly?" Sam gave her the information.

Within half an hour, there was a knock at the door. Sam opened it to Jen's smile and hugged her tightly. "Thank God you're here!" He whispered just before releasing her. They moved inside and shut the door.

"All right, tell me everything" Jen said as she dropped her bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Sam sat next to her, not sure how difficult saying this out loud was going to be. Jen slipped her hand into Sam's and he squeezed it, feeling just that bit of strength that Jen always seemed able to provide.

Sam took a breath and began. "We were fighting a rawhead with high voltage, and Dean was electrocuted and had a heart attack." The tears were already filling his eyes. "The doctors give him a few weeks." A tear slid down his cheek and he wiped it away. There was more he wanted to say to Jen, about Dean, the hunt, the fact that Dad called, but as he tried to form more words, they stuck in his throat. Tears began to fall freely and Jen let go of Sam's hand and put her arm around his shoulders. He gave up entirely and turned to Jen, sobbing into her shirt.

Sam was at a complete loss. The thought of losing his brother now when it still seemed sometimes like he just lost Jessica was simply incomprehensible. It seemed like everyone and everything was slipping away from him: Jess, Dad, Dean, school, life. It was almost a miracle that Jen was still there in front of him and he clung to her tightly not wanting to let go for a second as if she would float off.

He realized that he couldn't just hold on forever though, and eventually sat back, though grabbing Jen's hand just to maintain contact. Jen looked up at him, her eyes clear but full of compassion.

"All right, I'm sure I've missed more than that, but I'm beat so I'm going to have to be more comfortable if you are going to tell me the rest."

Jen pushed herself back against the wall and grabbed the pillows to prop up behind her. She pulled Sam along with her, not forcing him to let go, and he found himself relaxing a bit more against the wall as well.

Somehow, Jen managed to slowly coax the entire rest of the story out of Sam over the next hour or so without too much difficulty. By the end, Sam was so relieved just to have been able to talk about everything, that he was falling asleep on Jen's shoulder. The last thing Sam remembered was a gentle hum of a familiar melody and he woke up in the early morning to Jen reading on the opposite bed and hot coffee on the table.

Sam was determined. He had a job to do and a brother to save.

* * *

Dean was flipping through channels on the TV when he heard the door open. He braced himself for Sam, but just about dropped the remote when he realized who was actually at the door.

"Jen!" Dean practically shouted, but then quickly realized that he was more excited than he wanted to appear and quickly tried to appear disinterested and went back to channel surfing. "If I a dollar for every stupid person that tries to argue with Judge Judy, I'd be done pool hustling for good!"

Jen sat in the chair beside Dean. "Sam told me everything." She said, emotionless as usual.

Dean shrugged. "I figured he might. Girl that he is, I suppose he probably blubbered his way through it as well." Jen shrugged slightly and Dean could see the edges of a smile, her way of verifying his statement.

"He's not here, is he?" Dean asked. He didn't want Sam there. First of all, Sam would not have appreciated that last comment, but also Sam brought along with him more raw emotion than Dean could handle at the moment. Dean Winchester does not break, even in the face of death.

"No," Jen responded, and Dean relaxed just a bit. "He's at the motel researching. He's not quite ready to let you out of this one yet." Dean wasn't exactly hopeful, but if anyone could find something, it would be Sam.

Jen pulled her chair closer to Dean's bed and leaned toward him just slightly. She placed her hand gently on top of his on the sheet. She spoke quietly but solidly and without a trace of pain. "You know, barring Sam's miracle. You're dying."

"Yeah, I know." Dean said softly as he took Jen's hand and gave it a long squeeze. Somehow, coming from her in that way, it seemed more real. Still, Dean knew that he couldn't give in to despair and depression. Tears formed in his eyes, but never fell. Dean almost felt strength in Jen's hand, so he continued to hold it. The conversation, however, was finished. The two sat in silence. Judge Judy shouted on the television.

* * *

"The worst part was the smell after I woke up," Dean told Jen from the hospital bed. "I mean, I've smelled flesh burning before, but knowing that part of that was me." Dean shook his head. "I keep catching a whiff of it, like, from somewhere inside of me." Dean made a face, then was silent for a moment.

He looked over at Jen in the chair. She'd gotten there just as visitor hours had begun, same as yesterday even though she only left when they had ended the night before.

"Sam decide not to visit today?" Dean asked.

Jen sighed. "He's in super-research mode, looking up every possibility and calling every contact in the book."

Now, it was Dean who sighed. "You mean he's in denial."

Jen shrugged. "It's Sam."

"I know, and I really hate to do this to him. I mean, it hasn't been that long since Jess, and, well, you know." Dean looked away from Jen. He heard the chair scrape along the floor as she moved toward him and took his hand. He held it tightly.

Part of Dean wanted more than anything to hear that Sam had found something, that he wasn't going to die, that everything was going to be all right. The rest of Dean knew that was incredibly unlikely.

Jen had been staying with Dean as often as she could since the moment she returned. She couldn't be in the hospital overnight, but Dean could only imagine what the nights with Sam must have been like. Although, Dean's memories of what it was like after Jessica made him understand why Jen spent her days here with him instead.

Although, outwardly Dean was playing games, laughing at the TV, and generally trying to pretend he was "totally cool", he wasn't, and he was certain that Jen played along simply to appease him.

In the in-between moments, Dean thought about Dad. He worried that he wouldn't see him again. He knew Sam had left him a message, but Dean didn't think Dad would come, although he kept looking at the door when someone stopped by, hoping. Then, his spirit would sink when another nurse entered the room, and he would make another joke. The nurses loved him, as usual. Jen just watched him silently when that happened. Her eyes were almost apologetic, as if she knew what Dean was hoping for.

Dean wanted to see Sam, but was also glad he wasn't there. With Jen, it seemed easier not to think about dying, not to fall into what seemed to Dean would be a pit of sadness and fear that he was walking a tightrope over. Why was Jen like that? Dean often wondered what had happened to Jen that made her so strong. She was far stronger than him and Sam. He could feel it, see it in her eyes. She never betrayed emotions that would hurt Dean. She never appeared sad, worried, scared, just confident and composed. That's why he liked having Jen there instead of Sam.

That didn't stop him from worrying about Sam. He was supposed to watch out for Sam. Now what? He recalled all too well what happened during the week after Jess died. Sam had nearly fallen apart, and he had both Dean and Jen to lean on. Now, in the silence, Dean thought about Sam again, and his brow furrowed with worry.

As if Jen heard him, she spoke quietly. "I'll be here for Sam."

Dean turned to look at her, her face stone, but her eyes a reminder that she was there for him, too. She wouldn't leave him here alone to die. His eyes filled with tears that he wasn't going to allow to fall. He always wanted to thank her, but knew he would break if he tried. He squeezed her hand again, and she gave him a smile. The moment soon passed, and Dean gave himself a mental kick to get himself back in the game as he let go of Jen's hand.

"Okay, I'm starving!" Dean broke the silence. "I'm dying, I should get to enjoy some serious food here. Somebody find me a bacon cheeseburger!"

Jen laughed at Dean. "I'll get right on that."

* * *

Sam and Jen reentered the room after Layla left. Sam looked over at his brother. Dean was still sitting on the bed looking away, lost somewhere in his own mind.

Jen walked over and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We should get going." She said.

Dean's head snapped up, and he looked at Jen. "Yeah, I'm coming." He got up and started gathering his things.

Sam wasn't sure asking Layla to come was the right thing. Dean didn't seem any better. Once they all had their stuff, Dean headed toward the car and Sam hung back a moment with Jen.

"Do you think it helped?" Sam asked.

"I do, but these things take time to process. You know that." She responded.

Sam nodded. _She was probably right. She was usually right. _They headed down to meet Dean at the Impala.

Dean still seemed a little bit out of it all day, although he was trying to hide it, especially from Sam. Of course, Sam knew the signs. Dean's far away looks at random times, missing bits in conversation, and the minimal joking all pointed to Dean not quite reconciling what happened. Sam knew, though, that his brother went through a lot here, so Sam played dumb. He tried not to let his worry show. Although, he wasn't sure Dean would have noticed in his current state.

At one point, they stopped at a gas station and Dean headed inside to get some provisions. Sam watched Dean walk away and could see his brother's mental torment in his movement. Something had to be done, and Sam was certain Dean wasn't going to talk to him. He turned around to Jen in the backseat, "You are going to talk to him, right?"

Jen smiled at Sam. His anxiety abated somewhat with the confidence in her smile. "Yes, I plan to talk to him, but you know, it's Dean, not you, I can't just snap my fingers and make him want to talk to me."

Sam frowned. That's what he got for bugging her, witty remarks. "I'm not that easy." He protested.

Jen laughed, "Sometimes you are." Then her expression became serious. "Anyway, don't worry about Dean, I can handle this."

Sam felt better, still worried, but better. Sam knew that for all his brother tried to hide his feelings, they were always there. He knew Dean had broken down after Lawrence. Nobody talked about it, but Sam knew. Sam also knew that Dean had been hurt both when Sam shot him in the asylum and when Sam left in Indiana. Jen wasn't there for those, and Dean just bottled it all up and went on his way. How does he do it? Sam never could understand how Dean didn't go crazy with all that happened to him. This time though, Dean was clearly having more trouble than usual. Of that, Sam was certain.

They drove East for another few hours before deciding to stop for dinner. They hit up a Panera so that Sam could get on the computer and consider their next possible case.

For once, Dean was barely eating. Sam and Jen exchanged glances. On the list of Dean-having-a-problem-signs, not eating was right up with not hitting on hot chicks.

Only about twenty minutes into the Panera trip, Dean got up and said, "Ok, This place is a bit too high-class for me. I think I'll wait in the car." And with that, Dean walked off. Sam gave Jen an expectant look. He knew this was probably Jen's best chance to talk to Dean. She seemed less than interested in moving.

"What?" She said, responding to Sam's look, and his tapping fingers. "If I run right after him he's going to clam up on me, I need to give him a little time."

"You better be right." Sam threatened, although he knew she was.

"When am I not?" Jen responded in her usual, nonchalant way as she returned to eating.

Sam shrugged and returned to the computer, trying not to worry too much about Dean. He kept glancing up at Jen, hoping she would go, but she was looking elsewhere every time.

After a grueling 10 minutes that seemed like an hour, she stood up. Sam was relieved as she headed away and towards the car. She stopped a few feet away and turned back toward Sam for a moment. "Don't move until I get back," She warned. Sam put his hands up in surrender. He didn't want to be anywhere near what might happen next. Sam put all his faith in Jen, and all his concentration back to the computer.

* * *

Dean was sitting back in the driver's seat, eyes closed, trying not to think about everything that just happened when he heard the passenger side door open and felt the seat shift slightly. Not enough movement for Sam, must be Jen. Dean wasn't surprised, though it seemed to take longer than he had expected. Whatever. She wasn't going to get to him this time. Nope. Dean didn't feel like talking about this in the least.

He opened his eyes to confirm Jen's presence and asked, "What, no Sammy?"

"He's still working. Not much of a conversationalist when he's on the computer, you know."

"I'm not sure I can help you out much there either." Dean leaned back and shut his eyes again. Jen kept speaking.

"Then I'll cut right to the chase. What's still bothering you about this reaper case?"

Dean opened his eyes again and looked toward Jen with a glower. Not even any small talk. She just didn't know when to leave things alone sometimes. He muttered, "I'm not sure I like you anymore."

Jen shrugged. "Okay. We can just sit here instead." She turned her gaze forward and was silent.

Of course, now that she was there and she mentioned it, getting the case out of Dean's mind had just become a nearly impossible task. He was glad they stopped Sue Ann, but the fact that Dean was alive right now because somebody else was dead was not sitting well with him. He killed bad guys, not innocent 20-somethings. Plus, he didn't deserve this, and Layla, she was a great person. She had deserved it more than him. If anyone was going to live, it should have been her.

Jen began to speak again out of the silence. "You realize that if you hadn't been healed, you would never have seen the reaper and likely the case would have been much harder to solve. That's assuming anyone ever realized that there was a case there to begin with. And although Sue Ann did horrible things, I don't think Roy ever wanted to hurt people. I think he really saw something in you, and was telling the truth when he said you have a purpose."

Dean had almost forgotten about that. A purpose. What did that mean? It meant that he lived while others died. Clearly Jen thought it was something important. Something that made his life mean more than others. Jen didn't even know Dean that well. Although, she always seemed to know more than she let on. What she said here had that sound to it. That clear confidence that makes Jen so believable, even when so many fibers of Dean's mind were telling him that he was worthless and should already be dead.

Dean turned to Jen, "You really believe that?" He almost needed to hear it again to be sure.

She responded quietly, but firmly. "Yes, I do." Jen reached over and took Dean's hand from where it lay on his jeans. He squeezed it. Hand-holding, in either the literal or figurative sense, was never his thing, but something about Jen always seemed different. She wasn't pitying him or dragging him somewhere. She simply offered a little bit of balance when life seemed to pull one way or another.

She spoke again. "The world still needs you, Dean."

He heard the words. He felt it in her grasp on his hand, but he still wasn't sure that he believed it. He couldn't possibly be more important than the boy who died for him. Normally, he wouldn't let these things get to him, certainly not around Sam. Jen had a bit of an inside track though. Dean knew she could break him down. She did it in Lawrence. He also knew that if anybody could give him some kind of perspective on this, she probably was the one, that is, assuming he could understand what she said.

Hell, anything she could say had to be better than what he was feeling right then, and if he didn't talk to her, Sam would be certain to try later. This was his only option, but it was not going to be easy.

"This really sucks," Dean said, and he pressed his lips together and his chin wrinkled up as his eyes filled with tears. He pulled his hand out of Jen's and leaned on his arms on the steering wheel. "Part of me feels sort of empty and wrong, like I don't deserve to be here." A tear dropped out of Dean's eye and ran down his cheek. "Will I always feel that way? Is that going to go away?"

Dean felt Jen shift in closer to him, and she put her hand on his back and rubbed gently. He heard her voice nearly a whisper in his ear.

"You will feel better. As long as you try and believe you were meant to live, that you do have a purpose, even if you don't know what it is. That's what Layla meant by faith. She has faith in herself and in you, and Sam and I have faith in you, and you can draw on that, but you have to believe it too, even just a little."

"I don't know, I'm trying, but right now, I just don't know." More tears fell, and Dean let them go for a bit, still keeping his head buried in his arms.

"I know. Keep at it. I know you can." Jen's voice was surprisingly soothing.

Typically in a situation like this, Dean hated having someone else around. This is not the way a Winchester acts, and especially not Dean, and allowing someone else to see this weakness would never be allowed. For some reason, though, Jen's presence was actually helping. Dean really was beginning to believe that he could get through this, so long as she was there. He was also remembering the things that had gone wrong while she was gone, Sam shooting him under the influence of that insane doctor, Sam leaving, Dean almost being sacrificed. Things were way better when Jen was around. _Damn, I hope she's not leaving again anytime soon._

As if in response, Jen whispered again in Dean's ear. "I'm not going anywhere."

What, they teach mind reading at Stanford? Dean almost laughed. Jen had always been able to read him from the beginning, though. He was starting to just expect things like that.

They remained in silence for a few more moments, but slowly the sinking black pit in Dean's stomach was shrinking. He could do this. He had to this, for Sam and for Dad, who they would meet up with again. Once he got going the positive thoughts stuck, and soon, his usual not a care in the world demeanor began to resurface.

Dean took a deep breath and sat back up. He turned to her and said, "Thanks," as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Then Dean glanced out the window of the car and pointed his thumb in that direction. "I'm going to pop into that Mickey D's bathroom right there, and you can go see what Sam's found, cool?" Dean said.

Jen smiled. "Sounds like a plan," By the time she and Sam returned to the car, Dean was back in control, cleaned up, and ready to get moving.

"So, where are we headed, Sammy?" He asked.

"Pennsylvania," Sam replied.

"Right on." Dean turned on the car and knew exactly what he wanted to listen to.

"She's just a small town girl, living in a lonely world ..."

Dean glanced in the mirror and saw Jen smiling at him. That was the last thing he needed to know that he would be alright.


	11. Route 666

Dean didn't like it when other people touched him.

He never liked people who punched your arm in jest. He hated it when his dad's friends would put their hand on his shoulder and say, "Aren't you a good little hunter."

Sex was different of course. Then, he was in control; he did the touching.

And with Dad and Sammy, well, they're family.

Her touch was different though. The way she'd come up behind Dean and take his hand before he even knew she was there, but yet he wasn't surprised by it. Like she'd always been there.

She could even put a hand on his back or arm, and it didn't make him anxious. Sometimes, it even made him feel calmer, more clear, less full of rage or fear or sadness.

He didn't understand it. She was still a stranger to him. They'd known each other for what, six months, seven? It took years for Dean to be comfortable with touch, and yet with her, it was always natural, normal, expected almost. Like she'd always done that.

And so, Dean sat on the front of the Impala, hours after leaving Cassie in Missouri. Sam was getting provisions. Jen came around and sat next to him. She looked straight ahead, and put her hand over his on the hood. Dean turned his hand over and gave hers a squeeze, and then looked over with a slight, but grateful, smile. She returned the smile.

After a moment, Dean let go of her hand and stood up. She quietly walked back to the door and took her spot in the backseat. Dean took a deep breath, and somehow, he knew everything was going to be all right. For a moment, he wondered how Jen knew he needed that, but then again, she always seemed to know, for both him and Sam, what to do, and when. Like she was watching over them.

Like she had always been watching over them.


	12. Nightmare

It was a long, quiet car ride away from Max Miller's family, especially for Sam. Dean tried to get some of their usual banter going, but it never lasted long. Sam spent most of the drive staring out the window or pretending to sleep. Dean always knew when Sam was pretending, and all of Sam's current actions were pointing to him not handling their last case particularly well. Dean could understand that, to a point, considering how frightened Sam seemed about Max, and the dreams, and the possible "powers" he seemed to have. Unfortunately, Dean didn't know what to do or say to get Sam back into reality. Sam didn't seem to like Dean's response to the whole situation and Jen had chosen not to get involved in the conversation so far.

_What a time for her to suddenly clam up, right? _Dean glanced at Jen through the rearview mirror with the most worried look he could muster, but she kept her head down in her book.

Oh well, Dean was still glad Jen was there, she always seemed to know how to handle Sam. Hell, she knew how to handle them both. _Now, if she would only agree to hold a gun once in a while _... but that was her prerogative.

Sam's head suddenly snapped up. He must have actually fallen asleep that last time. Still, he didn't appear all that rested and was looking worse by the minute. The sun was only just starting to fall, but Dean decided maybe stopping a bit early would give Jen more time to work her magic. It certainly couldn't hurt. Pretty soon, they came upon a town with a motel and a Bar and Grille right next door. Dean pulled in.

"I think maybe we should get some grub and call it a night" He said.

"Whatever, I'm not really hungry" replied Sam, as if in another world.

Jen smiled at Dean from the back. "You know, I'm not too hungry right now, either, but I bet that place there has cute waitresses and doggie bags. Why don't you enjoy yourself and bring us back something for later." Sam shrugged. Dean suppressed an eye roll at his brother's attitude, trying to remind himself that Sam really had a lot on his mind. _Not an excuse for being a douche, though._

Whatever. Dean wasn't going argue with anybody right now, and at least Jen seemed to have something in mind. He probably shouldn't have been too worried, she always seemed to have a plan. They got themselves checked in to the motel, and Dean went on his merry way.

_Well, Jen. It's up to you now._

* * *

Sam entered the motel room, tossed his stuff on the floor, and sat in the chair at the desk. His mind was still a jumble of everything that had been happening. How could Dean simply dismiss the possibility of Sam ending up like Max just because Dean was there? Sam wasn't even sure he was in control when he moved that dresser. How could Dean stop something like that? Dean couldn't stop Max.

Dean never wanted to actually discuss possibilities. Dean thought it was all so simple: he was going to protect Sam and Sam was going to be fine, end of story. That didn'r work for Sam, though. That wasn't enough to convince him that he was really going to safe and not turn out like Max. Sam glanced over at Jen. She was the person he usually talked to. She was always willing to consider even the most outlandish of Sam's fears. So far on this case though, she had been unusually quiet, even for her. Normally, she would have said something earlier, backed Dean up or disagreed with him. However, she had simply listened silently and then gotten in the car, ready to leave. Sam wondered if these powers weren't getting to a point where they were scaring her too. What could she possibly think about her friend who moved a dresser with his mind?

Sam looked over at her, reading on his bed. She didn't seem scared. She also didn't hesitate to stay alone with Sam. Still, he didn't like the uncertainly of not knowing what she though. She always had an opinion, on everything, and he had to know what it was, for better or for worse. He took a deep breath and spoke.

"So, you never weighed in on the conversation this morning."

At the question, Jen put down her book, and looked over at Sam. "Oh, what conversation?" She acted as if nothing had happened in the past two days. Sam looked at Jen again. Her poker face was perfect, as usual. Maybe he'd get a better feel for how she felt if he wasn't so far away. He got up and came to sit down on the bed near to Jen, but still with space between them, both leaning back against the headboard. Sam pulled his knees up near his chest.

"You know, about whether or not there's something wrong with me, like Max." Sam was a little uncertain, but he looked down and just barreled through. "I know you have an opinion, and I know that you know more than me and Dean about these things, I can tell. I want to know what you think." Sam swallowed hard and tried not to look worried about her answer.

_Maybe I shouldn't have asked that._ Sam knew that Jen often did too good a job of getting inside his head. It also seemed odd that she hadn't said anything until now, and then acted like she had no idea what happened. That was unusual for Jen. _Crap._ Sam suddenly felt like he had walked into a trap. He gripped his legs together more tightly and braced himself for whatever Jen was going to say. She began speaking quietly.

"You're right. I know more than you realize about many things. However, in this case, what I know is that what _I_ think about this doesn't matter half as much as what you think." Jen turned to look directly at Sam. He continued looking down avoiding her eyes. She continued. "Dean's not here to protest, tell me what you really think about it, about Max, and you."

Sam was at first a bit confused by the lack of an answer and Jen's question to him. Then, he realized that this was a trap, just not the kind he thought it might be. She wasn't going to tell him something he didn't want to hear, but she was going to make him say what scared him, out loud. He wasn't sure he could do that. Saying it made it seem too real a possibility. Still, he had started this, and he couldn't just quit now. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and began.

"I just don't know what might happen or what I might do. What if I lose control during a fight and end up throwing Dean against a wall instead of a demon? What if I become angry all the time? What if I can't control the power when I'm angry? What if I hurt you or Dean?" Sam blinked hard to try and keep the tears that were filling his eyes from falling. He shook his head from side to side as if he could shake it away and pressed his lips together, but he knew the control was slipping away. Jen knew how scared he was now, and avoiding her gaze wasn't going to change that. Still, he couldn't look her in the eyes after that. _What if she really was scared of him too?_

Jen slid right next to Sam and put her arm around him. "I trust you not to hurt me. I know you, Sam, and I know that you know right from wrong, and that you would never hurt me or Dean on purpose. No matter what kind of powers someone has, those powers cannot change the basic morality of a person. If a person is predisposed to hurt others, then powers are dangerous. If a person wants to help others, then powers can be used for good. You are in control of your choices, even though the consequences of those choices may have gotten more complicated, and I trust you to make the right choices. You just need to trust yourself."

Listening to Jen's words, Sam could no longer hold in the tears as they worked their way out and streamed down his face. He leaned into Jen and lay onto her shoulder, still clutching his knees close to his body.

"You really think so?" he managed to get out quietly.

"I know so." Jen replied, in her typical matter-of-fact way. Thinking about what she said, Sam finally began to feel like a huge weight was lifting from his shoulders. Talking to Dean, it felt to Sam like he had a problem, but Dean was going to help him, Dean would solve it. In Sam's mind, that still equated to a problem, and Sam did not want his big brother solving his problem. Sam didn't like problems, he liked solutions, and try as he might, he hadn't found a solution to this. However, when Jen told him that she trusted him with this power, he was able to stop for a moment from trying to find the solution, stop worrying about Dean worrying about him. _If she believes in me, maybe I can do this._

They sat together quietly. Sam felt better, but he was still worried. He knew how scared everyone was when they realized what Max could do. Jen had to be scared of him, just a little bit, right? Sam knew Dean was more than a little freaked out by these powers, even though he tried to hide it. Hell, Sam was scared of himself. Jen acted as if she saw these things all the time, but she must just be hiding it, even better than Dean. Sam needed Jen now, though. If she did get scared and leave, well ... he had to make sure.

"You won't leave us, will you?" Sam asked, tentatively.

"As long you want me around, I won't leave you" Jen said. Sam couldn't hear any fear or uncertainty in her voice. It was almost too sure, but Sam needed the reassurance, so he accepted it.

"Good."

Sam closed his eyes, tired out for real finally, and soon he was asleep, still on Jen's shoulder.

* * *

A little while later, Dean walked back in with a doggie bag and noticed his brother's tear-streaked face asleep on Jen who was reading a book with her free hand and looking content. Dean breathed a sigh of relief that not only did Jen appear to get some positive results, but that he managed to completely miss it. Not that Dean didn't care about Sam, but he didn't understand Sam's obsessive behavior over things like this. It seemed simple to Dean, he raised the kid right, and Sam would be fine. Too bad Sam couldn't just leave things at that. Still, now that it was done, the last thing Dean wanted to do was wake Sam. He quickly tried to quiet his movements and whispered, "So, things are all worked out then?"

"Yes," Jen answered. "Things will be fine, for now at least. However, I could use a hand getting the feeling back in my arm." She smiled at him. Dean smiled back and helped Jen shift his little brother so that Sam's head was on a pillow and Jen was free to move. She headed right to the food as if this was all in a day's work for her. Dean shook his head in amazement. He always felt drained even trying to talk to Sam when he was as scared and worried as before, and rarely did Dean's efforts come anywhere near solving the problem. He watched her dig into a burger.

"I don't know what kind of mojo you work, man, but you are damn impressive."

Jen looked up at him. "Thanks for the compliment and for dinner."

"What about him?" Dean thumbed in Sam's direction.

Jen shrugged. "You know Sam, he'll be up early anyway, might as well let him sleep now." Dean nodded in agreement. Waking up the sasquatch wasn't exactly on Dean's list of favorite things to do. On the other hand, a shower was. Dean smiled. _Just another day in the office._


	13. The Benders

"Still can't believe they were just people. Crazy, fucking people. I hate people, have I mentioned that?"

Sam laughed at his brother's question. "Only about 6 times in the last twenty minutes."

Dean frowned. "Well, anyway, I do." Dean squinted into the distance. "Are those headlights?"

They both stopped and watched. Slowly, a pair of headlights was definitely coming toward them.

"Wrong direction for us, though." Sam shrugged. Dean kept staring. Something seemed oddly familiar about the lights ... and the car. Suddenly he realized what it was and started jumping up and down waving his arms

Sam looked at his brother confused, until the car got closer and started slowing down. It was the Impala, and it pulled up right next to them. Jen poked her head out the driver's side window.

"You boys need a lift?" She smiled at them.

"How did you find us?" Sam asked.

"I've learned a few tricks in my time, just like you." Her response was a typical Jen non-answer, but neither Sam nor Dean was going to argue with her right now.

"Anyway, we are thrilled to see you, now, get out of my seat!" Dean gestured toward her. Jen obliged, holding the door open for Dean. Although, seeing the three of them back together again after the fear of it not happening, Dean couldn't hold back all the emotion in the moment and he grabbed Jen in a huge bear hug. He could do that with Jen. It wasn't like a guy hug. Even macho guys hugged girls, right? Dean didn't care at the moment.

He didn't hold Jen up too long, and Sam was still waiting his turn around the other side of the car anyway. Jen got her second squeeze of the evening before everyone settled into their usual places in the Impala.

"Alright." Jen piped up from the back. "Who's going to tell me what happened to you two?"

At the same time, they both spoke.

"Sam got himself kidnapped by crazies."

"Dean got knocked out by a 12-year-old."

Everyone laughed. Dean looked over at Sam and then up in the rearview mirror at Jen, smiles all around. _Yup, this is what family is supposed to be about._

Sam began telling the story from the beginning. Dean sighed for a moment.

_Just wish Dad were here to see it._

Dean startled briefly as he felt Jen's hand rub his shoulder gently for just a moment. Dean smiled again. He decided to stop asking himself how she knew to do those things. He was just glad she did.

_We will find Dad. We will._


	14. Shadow

John was creeping around the side of the warehouse when he saw a shadow. He froze and glanced around. Nothing. He continued. Suddenly, he saw it again, and felt a presence behind him. He pulled out his gun and quickly turned and cocked it. He was pointing the gun right at the forehead of a girl. She was tall, with long, very dark hair and dark clothes. Her features were indistinct and she didn't even flinch at the gun. She looked directly into John's eyes. He detected no fear.

"You don't want to go in there. It's a trap." She said.

"Who are you?" John whispered fiercely.

"I'm Jen. Sam's friend." John relaxed slightly and lowered the gun slowly. She did look slightly familiar to him, though he had only seen her from a distance before. What he really remembered was what Missouri told him in Lawrence.

"It's a good thing they have that Jen with them. A very good thing."

John had tried to get more information than that, but Missouri just shook her head and refused to say anything more than that it was a "good thing" and to "trust Jen". John knew this was the same girl he had seen with Sam at Stanford, though he didn't know why she had joined them on these hunts. It was a strange move, and he couldn't help but be very nervous about her motives for his sons. He had been fooled in the past too many times by people who seemed really nice, but had terrible ulterior motives. John knew better than to trust anyone. However, he decided, for now, to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Jen." He nodded at her. "Missouri said something about you."

She smiled just slightly. "Only good things I hope."

"Yeah, good things, cryptic, but good." John glanced up the building. "So, this is a trap?"

"What else would it be. They know that if you think Sam and Dean are in real danger, you'll come. It's why you were in Lawrence."

John was a little bit shocked. He had worked very hard to keep that from Sam and Dean. Even Missouri said nothing. He frowned at Jen and said accusingly, "You knew that?"

She maintained no expression even in the face of John's clear anger. "I have good instincts, and Missouri shared that tidbit with me." John pushed his lips together angrily. Jen continued without pausing. "The boys don't know you were there." Now Jen did paused. John heard what he needed to and began to calm back down again. Jen went on. "But right now, I don't think you should go up there, they can handle themselves."

She sounded rather certain for someone not particularly well-involved in this battle. John's brow knotted in concern. "I'm not sure you realize what they are up against."

Jen's expression was steady. "I do. Trust me, now is not the time."

Suddenly there was a crash and Meg fell out the window and to the ground. John watched and then shrugged and looked back to Jen.

"I guess they do have it under control."

Jen smiled at him. "Maybe we should go to the motel. Head the boys off."

John nodded, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Show me the way." The two began walking away, Jen in the lead. John lagged slightly behind and watched her suspiciously for a bit, but she walked strongly and with purpose and he couldn't read anything useful from her movement. Therefore, he moved up in pace with her and decided to engage her in conversation instead.

"So, you met Sam where exactly?"

"Stanford. We met the first day, but I was also one of Jess's good friends and her roommate for a few years. Then when he and Jess got really serious, he moved in with us. We were living together from about May until November when we both left."

Basic information. Nothing specific. Hell, nothing much more than John already knew, although he didn't realize they had actually met the very first day. He kept going, there had to be something he was missing. "What was your major?"

"Philosophy"

Now, that John didn't know. He rolled his eyes just slightly. "You know that's a bullshit major"

"So I've been told."

John was getting tired of the small talk. He decided to move to a direct approach. "What do you know about hunting exactly?"

Jen still appeared unphased. "You don't mess around, do you? I suppose I shouldn't have expected otherwise. I know more than I care to talk about. And I know enough to help Sam and Dean and to know when to stay out the way. I know that you are pretty much the most important thing in the world to both of them, even though neither would admit it to anyone." Jen stopped walking and turned to look directly at John. Her look was not threatening, actually, it was more like concern. John never dropped eye contact with her and quickly responded.

"That was some smart talking turning this around on me like that."

"You have your ways, I have mine." She turned away again and started walking. John followed just a step behind, silent for once. After a moment, Jen continued.

"You want to be straight, let's be straight. You already know that I won't tell you everything about me, and I already know that Missouri told you to trust me anyway. So, let's simplify this. All I want is to help Sam and Dean. I know you want that too, so let's assume that we are on the same side, and act accordingly." Jen stopped moving again and looked up. "By the way, we're here." John glanced up at the neon sign reading "Windy Horizons Motel" only with enough broken lights so it looked more like "Wid Hrins Motl". John nodded.

"Yeah, this is Dean's kind of place." Jen lead them inside, and they waited for Sam and Dean to show. Although it wasn't spoken, it was clear to John that this was something akin to a truce, for now.

* * *

They had only sent John on his way and had been on the road for about half an hour, but Sam was already crying. He was trying hard not to, and trying even harder not to let Dean or Jen know, although that was wasted effort as Dean could see right through him, and Dean knew that Jen was impossible to fool. Dean kept glancing back in the rearview mirror at Jen. He wasn't liking what he saw which was a lot of concern and a little uncertainty. He was having the same feelings.

Dean was torn. He instinctively wanted to get as far away as possible from the evil thing they just barely escaped, but he couldn't stand to sit next to his brother when he was that miserable. Dean's mind wasn't exactly in the best place either. He just kept running back over and over again at what Sam was saying about going back to school when this was done, and the thought of Sam leaving again scared him shitless. He couldn't understand why Sammy wouldn't want to be a family again after the demon was killed. Was their family, hunting, really that awful and different?

They had just gotten outside of the sprawling city and were now driving past cornfields full of the last crop of the season. Dean glanced at Sam again. He was staring straight out the side window, arms crossed in front of his chest. His shoulders trembled just slightly, and Dean caught his hand slip up toward his eyes and back down again. Dean couldn't take much more. He looked up in the mirror and stared right at Jen. She returned the look and nodded. That was essentially Jen's blessing to stop this freakin' car and do something about Sam, and Dean started watching for a place that made sense. They hit the next town on the winding back-country highway just a few minutes later and right ahead was a diner promoting stuffed pancakes next to a huge open grassy area with some trees and a pond. Dean pulled into the parking lot without even asking.

"I don't know about you man, but both me and my baby here are starving," Dean said indicating the less than 1/4 full gas tank.

Sam sniffed and cleared this throat. He stayed facing the window as he spoke quickly. "It's okay, you eat, I'm not hungry."

Jen opened her door and began to swing her legs out of the car, "I could at least use a nice cup of tea. I'm sure we won't take too long, Sam."

Dean was a bit surprised at Jen's choice of action. Shouldn't she be talking to Sam or something? She's just going to leave him? Just as soon as they were out of earshot of the car Dean turned to her. "Was that really smart, leaving him like that?"

Jen looked back at Dean. "I don't want him to feel like we stopped for him, even if we did. He's got enough to worry about right now."

Dean looked into Jen's eyes and he knew that she was right and that she cared enough about Sam to want to do this thing the right way. This was Sam and Dad, which was not an easy subject on a normal day, much less this one, and Dean had no idea what to say to Sam. He had no choice but to trust Jen.

Jen and Dean were able to maneuver their way into a spot with a partial view of the car, and they watched as just a few minutes after sitting down Sam left the car and headed out toward the pond.

"I don't like it." Dean said. "And I can't see him anymore."

Jen just shrugged. "Sam has an affinity for nature. Can't blame him, I feel the same way. I'll go check on him in just a few more minutes; I promise. He will be fine."

Jen was secure and sincere in her last words, and Dean nodded in acceptance.

Jen sipped a cup of tea for a few minutes, although it seemed like ages to Dean, and when the cup was empty she finally stood up.

Dean didn't know what to say, so he just smiled at Jen. She smiled in return and went off.

Dean took one deep breath, shook his head quickly to brush it all away, and focused all his charm on the cute brunette waitress.

* * *

Sam wasn't fooled by the conversation or Dean and Jen's quick disappearance into the diner. He was glad for the respite though. A few moments alone with your own thoughts is a pretty rare event in this kind of life. Even the car seemed too cramped for all of Sam's thoughts so he went out to a tree by the pond. No one was around. It was calm, quiet, perfect.

That was when it all came out. He was just barely holding back in the car, okay, more like failing to hold back but trying like hell. Out here, alone, trying was pointless and Sam just let the tears cascade down his cheeks. He pulled his knees up tight, head in arms, and let it all go, praying to God that if he did all these horrible feelings would just go away.

They didn't. They just hung there, pushing fresh tears from who knew where back into Sam's eyes. All Sam could think about was Dad. He went away three and half years ago thinking that his father hated him and was a revenge obsessed nutjob. Now, in just the past few months Sam learned that his father was so scared for him that he came to check on him, and Sam had finally been in a place to understand what it must have been like when his mom died.

Everything had come together, all the pieces in place, and then just as suddenly they were torn apart again. Dad was off to somewhere else again and Sam was left hanging again. He couldn't do it. Not this time.

Sam noticed a shadow across his view. He looked up to see Jen standing about twenty feet in front of him. Sam couldn't have held back if he wanted to at this point. Jen slowly walked toward him and sat down at his side. She put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him toward her gently. He didn't even try to resist.

For a while, Sam allowed himself to bury into Jen's shoulder and cry. It seemed easier than before, alone, as if Jen was able to somehow pull away some of the pain, whereas before it just kept cycling back around again and again. After a couple of minutes, the tears slowed and Sam began to talk quietly to Jen.

"So, that was my dad."

She replied, matching his tone. "I know, we chatted just a bit on the way back to the motel."

Sam paused. He knew what he really wanted to say, what he needed to say out loud, although it seemed so silly to need that. Whatever, might as well go for it now. "I love him, you know. Even though we hadn't spoken in years, and we always argued. I really do love my dad." Sam sighed. That felt good to say to someone at least.

Jen was quiet for just a moment. "I know you do." She squeezed his shoulder gently. "He loves you too, you know that?"

The words brought fresh tears to Sam's eyes. "Yeah, I do" He barely made it through that small phrase before his voice broke off again. Sam shut his eyes and just allowed himself to lay on Jen and let it all sink in, deeper and more real with every minute. Still, there was a positive side to all this, Dad was getting close. Close enough for the demon to start luring him places. That had to mean something important. However, here they were again, separated and not part of the battle that had finally really involved Sam in a way that he couldn't ignore. He couldn't stand being on the sidelines while his Dad hunted Jess's killer.

Sam opened his eyes again and pursed his lips together as now anger seethed through him. He sat up again, hugging his knees to his chest. "I want to kill this thing too, for what it did to Jess, and mom, and all of us, and Dad doesn't want me there."

"You father doesn't want you there because he's already lost enough family to this demon. He doesn't want you to get hurt, or worse" Jen responded, her hand still rubbing along Sam's back. Sam knew that line of reasoning. Deep down, he always knew that him and Dean were still more important to Dad than the revenge. There was something more though, something that Sam couldn't quite put into words before, but now seemed clear as day to him as they tumbled out of his mouth.

"I know, but we could lose him to this demon, too!"

Hearing his own words, the impact of the situation felt like a cannonball to Sam's stomach. Yes, the thing he wanted most was to kill the thing that killed Jess, but the thing he wanted least was to lose his father to the fight, especially now that he had just gotten him back. Yet somehow, it seemed that those two things would be impossible to separate.

The pit in his gut made its way up to his throat as his eyes filled with tears again. He felt Jen's arms wrap around him, and Sam finally just let entirely loose, turning toward Jen and holding onto her tightly as he sobbed. She remained silent. Sam wasn't sure anything would have helped more than just being there with him anyway.

It didn't take too long for the anger, fear, and pain to finally exhaust itself from his system, and after a few minutes, Sam found his tears slowing and his grip on Jen loosening. Soon, he let go entirely and leaned back against the tree, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. He felt better. The despair and fear of never seeing his father again had diminished, even if it left a dull ache. At least here, there was still hope. Sam held on to that as tightly as he could.

When Sam was able to really notice his surroundings again, he saw Dean on a bench about a hundred feet away, looking anywhere but towards his brother. Sam sighed, then smiled.

"How long has he been sitting there?" Sam asked Jen.

She smiled in return. "About five minutes."

Sam knew Dean was watching him. Even after this time with Jen, Dean still felt better keeping Sam in his own sights, although, this moment was way too chick flick for Dean. Sam smiled at Dean. Sometimes, the overprotective big brother bit was nice; it felt good to know he was being looked out for.

He had Dean. He had Jen. Dad was out there and he was getting closer to Mom's and Jess's killer.

Dean turned to look at Sam finally. Sam caught his eye and nodded at him. Then he turned to Jen.

"Okay, let's get this show on the road."

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to flow pretty typically. Dean was glad for that. He had enough on his mind without worrying all day about Sam, who seemed to be just fine for now. Well, close enough to fine not to interrupt their usual road banter and amusement. His big brother senses did catch Jen a few times during down moments lean over and put a hand on his shoulder. Whatever it is she did, it worked, and Dean was not complaining.

Dean did what he did best all day, buried his own problems and kept spirits up. After that morning with Sam, Dean figured his problems were not worth discussing, possibly ever.

He wished that worked at night.

Night was always the worst. They were spending this one in the Impala. Middle of nowhere, no motel in sight, and everyone was beyond exhausted to continue. Jen's the one who finally called it. She doesn't mess around. If she thinks it's too dangerous to drive, that's it, they sleep.

She also pushed Sam into the backseat. Dean was glad for that. He slept better back there, more space to maneuver, and he really needed sleep.

Dean needed sleep too, but it wasn't coming. Instead, all his fears from earlier were getting back in the way. Was he right to send Dad away on his own again? Would his family survive this? Would Sam leave if they did? Would they finally get the thing that killed Mom?

Sleeping was not working. Thinking was not working. Dean needed something else.

He listened carefully for a few moments, making sure of the deep breathing around him. Then he carefully opened his door and got out of the car. He glanced around in the darkness and then up at the starry sky.

He knew what he needed. He moved to the front of the car and lay out on the hood, staring up at the stars, trying to remember the constellations.

For a few minutes he was alone. Then he heard another car door open and shut quietly. He heard the light footsteps and felt the car shift slightly as someone sat on the hood near him. Jen. Too light a touch for Sam.

Maybe this was a good thing. Dean knew he couldn't tell Sam his fears, but he felt like Jen would listen. She always did. Dean just didn't typically have much to say. Dean had no idea where to start. Then, Jen spoke.

"Sure is beautiful up there."

Dean sighed. The stars. Before he even had time to think, he opened his mouth and words began streaming out.

"When me and Sammy were younger, Dad would leave us alone a lot with the car, and we would sit out here and stare. I got Sammy a book about the constellations, and when he was little I would point them out to him, but soon he had them memorized and he would point them out to me. Sometimes, we just watched. We did that the night before he and Dad had that final big fight and he left."

Jen remained silent. No comments or questions. Dean thought in the silence about those nights. Then he thought about the nights he spent alone with the Impala watching the stars by himself. He hated those nights.

Dean sat back up and moved to the edge of the hood next to Jen. He looked down. He could feel the prick of tears in his eyes. He blinked a few times, keeping himself steady. Then he asked Jen the question he had thought to himself throughout the years Sam was at Stanford, and then again tonight.

"Is it wrong to want that back?" Dean pushed his lips together trying to keep his chin from trembling.

"No. it's not," Jen's voice was quiet, but certain.

It was simple, but it was enough. The threatening tears pooled into Dean's eyes and he leaned forward on his elbows. Jen's hand gently touched his back, and he flinched ever-so-slightly. He wanted her there, but was still uneasy. This wasn't right, Winchesters deal with what they got. They don't cry over shit like this. Still, there was just one more thing he had to say. Something he wanted to say to Sammy, but couldn't, so it would have to be Jen, because if he didn't get this out he might burst holding on to it. He took in as deep a breath as he could before speaking once more.

"You know, I wanted Dad to stay more than Sammy could imagine, but I couldn't do that. I couldn't let them use us to hurt him. I just couldn't do it." The last few words caught in his throat and the pressure pushed the tears out of his eyes and they began falling down his cheeks. Dean shut his eyes, willing the tears to stop, but they refused his pleas.

Dean felt the warmth of Jen's body as she moved right up next to him, putting her arm around his shoulders, which were now shaking no matter how still he tried to be. Knowing that he had lost the battle, Dean allowed himself to lean onto Jen's shoulder.

For a minute or two, Dean dropped the strong-Winchester facade that he usually held onto so tightly and let his feelings for his father come through. Since Dean was four, he hadn't spent more than a few weeks apart from his father, and now it had been months, and they were together for mere hours before they were separated again, and separated by Dean's insistence. Sam spent three years on his own at college. He couldn't understand how Dean felt, and, really, Dean didn't want him to know.

When Dean could finally control the tears and the sobs again, he took a deep breath and sniffed hard as he picked his head up.

"I'm not going to get my family back, am I," he said solemnly.

Jen responded quietly. "I don't know, Dean. Nobody can really know."

"Am I doing the right thing? Letting Dad go?"

"Yes, I believe you are."

Dean nodded. Jen's certainty felt good, well, as good as sending Dad away was going to feel. Which, in reality, sucked, but now Dean knew he could handle it. He had to handle it. The mission came first; his mother's killer came first. Dean wiped off his face, his usual composure returned. Jen had slid just a few inches away again, and held her hands in her lap. She looked at him. She held her fact without expression, but her eyes sparkled just enough for Dean to see that she knew he was alright.

"Thanks," Dean said, then he turned and smiled weakly at Jen. "You know, if we do get this family back together, I think maybe we'll keep you."

Jen laughed and punched his arm "Only maybe!"

Dean grinned and shrugged, rubbing his arm. Dean glanced toward Sam in the backseat. "You don't think he woke up at all, do you?" Suddenly, Dean was a little nervous.

"I'm pretty sure he slept the whole time, no worries." Jen grabbed Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze. Dean relaxed again. "I think you could use some sleep now too." Jen said just before she released her grip.

Dean realized how tired he was as he responded, "Yeah, yeah," and jumped down from the hood. Both reentered the car quietly and found comfortable positions to sleep in. Just as Dean started drifting off, he thought how much Jen had done for him, for them, over the last few months. He managed to mumble out, "What would we do without you?" just as he fell fast asleep.


	15. Something Wicked

**Author's note: You might notice I skipped Hell House. Just didn't strike me as anything particularly interesting with Jen, so just assume she was there. Probably hung out at the motel doing research and stuff.**

* * *

Sam watched from outside as Dean procured them a room. He knew something was wrong, with Dean and with this case, but he knew he wasn't going to get answers out of his brother easily. He looked beside him at Jen. She was also staring at Dean. Her expression was thoughtful. She turned and returned his look then gave him a smile. Sam recognized the glint in her eyes, and he knew what was coming next.

"Why don't you get us some provisions?" Jen said, indicating the little corner store next to the motel. "I'm hungry. Chocolate, preferably."

Sam looked at her, squinting his eyes suspiciously. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

Jen shrugged. "Yeah, maybe, but just for a minute or two, really."

Sam understood. Jen already seemed to have a way with Dean after six months that Sam had never managed even after twenty-two years. Of course, Jen seemed to have a way with everybody. Sam certainly knew better than to argue with Jen.

"Okay, I suppose we could use some treats," Sam replied, smiling at Jen and walking away.

* * *

Dean exited moments after Sam began heading toward the store. He looked curiously at Jen, waiting alone, and Sam walking off.

"Where's Sam going?"

Jen smiled at Dean. "I was hungry, sent him for a candy bar. Where's our room?"

Dean felt something was odd about that statement, but he couldn't quite catch it. His mind was still a bit jumbled from the memories and the case. He looked down at the key in his hand. "Um ... 114, over here."

Dean led the two of them to the room and stepped inside. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Dean found himself looking right into Jen's eyes. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"You're worried about this thing, more than usual."

Dean realized that was not a question. He was trying not to give away his fears about this shtriga, but he figured that Jen would not be fooled. Dean played it cool anyway.

"Nah," Dean shrugged and tried to turn away. Dean startled slightly as Jen grabbed his hand. He turned back toward her, prepared to deny whatever she asked him. Her eyes held concern that Dean wasn't prepared for. When she spoke, it was quiet, but the message was clear.

"I'm not going to make you talk, but we're here with you together. This is not your fight alone, okay?"

Dean was not sure what to make of her statement. She couldn't possibly know about what happened, Sam didn't even remember. For a moment, he just looked at her, letting the words sink in. Then he gave himself a mental kick, remembering that she really didn't know anything, and he wasn't going to give any more away.

He pulled out of her grip and reasserted his usual jovial self. He plopped himself on the bed, pulled out his classic smile and said, "Mmm, comfy."

Jen smiled in return. Dean was certain that she wasn't going to bother him further, not yet anyway. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Jen pulled it open to reveal Sam holding up a bag of candy bars and sodas,

"Sugar anyone?"

* * *

It was 3:45am. Sam fell asleep quickly about twenty minutes ago, but Dean was still lying in bed. Even though they killed the shtriga and Michael was safe, he couldn't keep guilty thoughts from running through his head.

_It almost got Sam, again. It should never have been alive. It should never have come. I should have listened to Dad to begin with. It's my fault that Michael had to be bait. I should have listened. I could have stopped it. I should have listened._

He heard footsteps; must have been Jen. She had offered to stay and put Michael to sleep after the boys removed the body. The shtriga was in the Impala for now, they would burn it somewhere tomorrow. Michael had been pretty wound up, it must have taken Jen a little while to calm him and get him to sleep. If anyone could do it, she could though. Kids always seemed to take to her.

The door quietly opened, and Jen tiptoed in and sat down on the chair next to Dean's bed. Dean didn't really want to let her know he was awake, but he did want to stop the train of thoughts in his head. At least this would be slightly distracting.

"So, he's asleep?" Dean whispered. Jen turned to look at him, no surprise on her face at all, almost like she expected him to be awake.

"Yes, he's asleep. Why aren't you?" She spoke in an accusing whisper.

_Crap. _Dean thought, just what he knew would, but was hoping wouldn't, happen.

He shrugged. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Or the tired." Jen said. She shifted to face him, pulled her chair up next to the bed, and looked Dean right in the eyes. Her stare made him slightly uncomfortable, but only because he knew she could get to him, if she wanted to. She continued. "You're still thinking about what you told us earlier, about when you were kids."

Dean immediately looked away. This was not going to be fun. Once Jen got on something, she didn't back off until it was over.

Dean glanced back at Jen and saw that she was still watching him. Although she hadn't said another word, Dean knew she was expecting something more from him. He glanced over at Sam whose breathing was deep and slow.

_Might as well do this now rather than later. Anything is better than lying here all night._

"We should never have been on this case." Dean whispered.

"Because it should have been taken care of twenty years ago." Jen added.

"Because I didn't listen to Dad. He was always right, and I should have listened. I watched this _thing _try and take Sammy's life twice, because I didn't listen."

Dean's eyes filled with tears, and he quickly turned on his side away from Jen. _Shit. That was not better. _Dean had no idea how she always got him to say things he wasn't planning to say. Especially things like that. _No more._ "I think I'm tired now." Dean mumbled.

Jen wasn't fooled. She reached over and rubbed Dean's shoulder. He shut his eyes, focusing on maintaining his composure. She started talking to him, and he found he couldn't block out her words, as if they were actually inside his head.

"It's not your fault. You were a kid. You couldn't be expected to have that much responsibility, even if your Dad thought so. Things just don't work that way. Sam is safe, Michael is safe, and now, thanks to you, a lot of other kids are going to be safe."

Dean couldn't stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes and into his pillow. He tried to bury his head further and keep his shoulders still. _Of course it was his fault. He was supposed to watch Sammy, and shoot without hesitation. How simple was that?_

Dean could still feel Jen's hand moving slowly up and down on his shoulder. He had to try to explain to her. She wasn't there. She didn't know what it was like, Things like that kill people. Something like that killed his mother, and something almost killed Sam because Dean didn't follow orders. That was on him.

Dean whispered again. "Dad told me to watch out for Sammy. That's what he always said. That's what I'm supposed to do."

Jen leaned over so Dean could feel her breath on his neck and responded very quietly. "Someone has to watch out for you, too, Dean."

No one had ever told Dean that in all the years since his mother died. She had watched out for him, since then he did the watching, watching his dad, watching Sam. No one watched out for Dean, until now.

Dean reached up and held Jen's hand, still on his shoulder. He squeezed it tightly. He didn't know why she was there with them. Sometimes it still seemed very strange, and for a moment it made no sense, and then suddenly it seemed perfectly reasonable again. Right now, though, it didn't matter. She was there. She was watching. That was all that mattered. Dean could feel the guilt slipping away, like Jen's hand gave it a conduit, somewhere to go, someone else to watch out for at least some of what Dean had always felt responsible for. He had to admit: it felt good to share the burden. Now, without the guilt hammering away inside his head, he could relax. They had taken out a child-killing monster that night. Hunting rarely got better than that.

"Thank you." Dean said.

Jen responded. "Anytime, Dean. But right now, just sleep."

That was the last thing Dean remembered as he drifted off, letting loose Jen's hand.


	16. Provenance

The discovery of Evelyn's death, and Sarah's presence had changed the whole game. Sam knew that they had to find out what was haunting this painting, and fast. He felt terribly guilty that he had allowed Sarah to get involved. She was such a nice girl; she didn't deserve this.

When Sam and Dean returned to the motel, Sam plopped right down in a chair at the little table across from Jen who was on the laptop. She looked up at him and immediately closed the computer.

Dean looked at the two of them across the table. "We are going to need coffee. I'll get right on that." Dean quickly left the motel room again.

Jen didn't give Sam a chance to explain. "The person who bought the painting was dead." Sam nodded. "Sarah showed up too, didn't she?"

Sam looked up at Jen. "How did you ... ?"

Jen reached across the table and put her hand on top of Sam's. "You are more than just-another-dead-body concerned. Is she okay?"

Sam nodded. "She found her friend's body. She's taking care of the police and meeting us here." He turned his hand up and grasped Jen's hand.

"What's the problem then?" Jen asked quietly.

Sam looked up at Jen. He was not even surprised at how perceptive she was about the situation this time. He'd been running the Sarah situation through his mind ever since their date.

"The problem is that I like her." Sam looked at Jen sadly. She looked back and stayed silent, but gave Sam's hand a squeeze. Sam knew he didn't have to explain to Jen. She was there. She lost Jess too.

"Sometimes, people will force you to let them choose their own risks." Jen said as she smiled at Sam. He heard what she said. For a moment it just sat in his mind, him trying to fully grasp her meaning. While he was thinking, the door opened.

"Coffee, something sweet for the woman, and black for Jen and me." Dean said smirking. Sam dropped Jen's hand and turned to give his brother an exasperated look. Still, her last words remained at the back of his mind. However, right now, there was work to do.


	17. Dead Man's Blood

Dean was out collecting the necessary dead man's blood for poisoning the vampires. John returned to the motel room with Sam and Jen. The three sat inside quietly.

John couldn't ignore the tension that remained between him and his youngest son. Sam was always so headstrong, but knowing how close they were getting to Mary and Jess's killer was making it even more difficult for him to slow down and listen. John had the benefit of years of seeking revenge to acquire patience and perseverance. He knew this was much harder on Sam, but he didn't know what to do, what to say. Nothing he said to Sam ever seemed to help. Silence was at least better than fighting.

John's gaze moved across the room to the girl sitting on the bed, reading. Now, having the chance to see her up close and in the light, she seemed so normal. She was wearing dark grey pants and a black shirt, sitting calmly and reading. She acted as if they were on vacation, although she knew they were in a fight for their lives against Vampires. She should be scared, confused, anything but perfectly calm. She had barely said two words so far since John caught back up with his boys. She stayed silent and in the Impala when Dean had to break John and Sam up on the highway. She listened to the story of the Colt without moving a muscle, as if she already knew what it was. She did stay in the car when the three of them entered the Vampire's nest. She didn't seem scared, though. She just acted like that was her job, and so did Dean and Sam. Clearly, they had created quite a system while John was gone. Now she sat on the bed, calm and quiet.

She was actually more calm than Sam. Sam was up and down alternately pacing across the room and sitting wringing his hands. John wished he could help. He watched as Sam sat on the bed near Jen again. He looked at her, brow knit. She gave Sam a small smile. He seemed to relax a bit. John wished he could do that for his son.

John couldn't take the tension and the silence any more. He needed some air. He stood up suddenly.

"I gotta get some stuff out of my truck," he said as he left the room.

He started walking slowly the few spaces away where the truck was parked. He heard a door shut behind him and quick footsteps nearing his own. He glanced behind him to see Jen. What is she doing out here? John had barely spoken to Jen outside of their initial conversation in Chicago. He didn't like people poking their heads in places they didn't belong.

Jen reached John at the same time he reached the truck.

"Need anything I can help with?" Jen asked, eyes wide, smiling at John.

John sighed. What was she thinking? "No. You should just go back to the room."

Suddenly, Jen's demeanor changed. Her smile vanished and she pulled herself straighter looking John directly in the eyes. "John, I'm not one of your children, so I'm going to get to the point. You need to talk to Sam. You don't need to say much, but he has trouble understanding your reasons. There's too much history between you two, and he can't see how much you love him the way that I can. Tell him something, anything. It will help, believe me."

John was slightly bewildered not only by the statement, but the authority that he heard from this young girl. He tried to maintain his composure, not letting his shock show. It seemed so strange for her to pinpoint the problem between him and Sam out of nowhere like that, especially when she had only witnessed them interacting a few brief times. It seemed that there must be something going on, some ulterior motive.

He sized Jen up and could find no motive in her voice or posture beyond someone who cared strongly about Sam, something John was intimately familiar with. John sighed again, considering Jen's statement.

"It's not like I haven't tried before, he doesn't listen."

Jen's gaze softened and John could almost sense a sadness in her eyes though her face remained emotionless. "The last time you came and left, it wrecked both Sam and Dean, and I was left to pick up the pieces."

That hit John hard and in his gut. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his sons. He knew that splitting up would be hard on Sam. John knew what that need for revenge was like. Dean, though? He never expected that would hurt Dean. Dean could handle anything, couldn't he? John stood silent, lost in his thoughts when Jen's voice sliced back through, impossible to ignore.

"I know you think you are protecting them, but I wonder if you aren't just trying to protect yourself."

As he heard the words, he realized that in a way, what she just said was true. He couldn't stand to lose the rest of his family by allowing them into this fight. Still, it was danger he was keeping them out of. He broke out of his thoughts and looked at the girl in front of him. She couldn't have been much older than Sam, maybe as old as Dean. Somehow, though, she had figured the Winchesters out, all of them apparently, including him. She had made John listen to the truth. That's something no one had done in a number of years.

She stood still, awaiting John's response. Never backing down. Never betraying emotion. However she learned this, she learned it well. She was good, and she cared. John had to give her credit for that.

"You are really quite surprising young lady, but you seem to care a lot about my boys, and I respect that." He let out a breath and gave Jen a slight nod. "Maybe you are right."

Jen smiled again, her lighthearted manner returning. She looked straight into John's eyes and he almost felt captivated by her gaze. "They love you too, more than you know."

Still entranced, John didn't move or turn from the truck as Jen walked away. Suddenly, he heard her shout back and he jolted up and looked toward her. "And by the way ... I'm older than I look." She paused for a moment smiling slyly at him, and then was gone back to the motel room before he could respond.

John remained outside for a moment, thinking. He knew though. He knew what he had to do.


	18. Salvation

Sam got just far enough away from Monica and baby Rosie before he called everyone, carefully leaving his father for last and not explaining how he found the victims.

Sam found Jen already at the motel room when he arrived, and Dean was seconds behind him. Sam sat on the bed, rubbing his temples. He looked up briefly to share a knowing look with his brother.

"So, it was another vision." Dean said, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the beds.

"Yes. One that seems to have left me with an awful headache." Sam replied, hands still to his head. Jen walked over with a few aspirin and a cup of water. "Thanks," Sam said. Jen gave him a sympathetic look and sat beside him.

"What are we going to tell Dad?" Dean directed this question at no one in particular. Sam knew what he meant though. No one had yet mentioned Sam's apparent psychic abilities.

"Tell the truth?" Sam offered, beginning to relax somewhat as Jen gently rubbed his shoulder. The drugs seemed to be kicking in awfully fast, but Sam didn't care, so long as his head stopped throbbing.

Dean stopped pacing and sat on the opposite bed, elbows on knees. "Dad is not going to be happy." He looked over at Sam.

"Dad is never happy with me." Sam said quietly, looking away from Dean. "Nothing new."

Dean pressed his lips together as his anxiety turned into anger. "Don't do that, Sam. That is half the problem with you and Dad." He paused. Sam looked up at him.

Jen was still gently rubbing Sam's back as she quietly spoke. "What's the worst that could happen."

Sam looked down, tears filling his eyes. Worst case scenarios were something Sam thought about all too often, but he usually avoided mentioning those fears to anyone. He didn't feel like he could easily avoid this one though, so he spoke.

"He could hate me." Sam's voice was just above a whisper, but he knew Dean heard him because he immediately stood up and walked over.

He knelt down to look straight at Sam. "That would never happen, because we are family! And you know who taught us about the importance of family, Dad. He wouldn't do that, he can't do that." Dean's words sounded steadfast, although Sam could tell that there was just a glimmer of fear in his eyes.

"I agree with Dean." Jen said beside him, with her usual confidence. It didn't seem like enough to Sam though. He knew how Dad responded to things. Especially to things he didn't like or wasn't prepared for. John Winchester wasn't exactly the guy who took scary news easily, and especially not when the news was related to his lifelong hunt for the demon who killed his wife. Sam could only continue to imagine the worst, even amidst the confidence of those around him.

He shook his head and stood up, brushing off Jen's touch. He turned to look at her. "You weren't there when I left for college. It wasn't about family then, it was 'Don't come back'. Having weird demon-related visions? I really don't know what he'll say." Sam walked across the room, away from Jen and Dean.

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Then Dean walked over to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, look at me."

Sam stopped and looked up, tears still shining in his eyes.

"All Dad ever wanted was for you to be safe, and he couldn't be certain of that while you were at college, so he got mad. But I still know Dad, and he might get scary angry, but I know that he could never hate you, never."

Deep down, Sam knew that Dean was right. John might not know how to hold a civil conversation with his sons, but he loved them more than life itself. Plus, Sam knew he had Dean and Jen on his side, and that they would help talk to his Dad.

Sam looked at Jen on the bed, her calm expression unwavering. Then, he looked back to Dean still beside him. Sam swallowed hard and blinked back the tears before nodding his head to his brother. "Okay. It will be okay."

"Good." Dean responded as his expression slowly turned to his trademark smirk. "So, we can end this 'moment' and be men about telling Dad about this psychic thing?"

Sam smiled and knocked Dean's arm off his shoulder. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

* * *

It was gone. The demon had vanished along with their chance to kill it. Sam was furious with Dean for stopping him, destroying that chance.

He felt her hand on his arm. He turned to Jen, having nearly forgotten that she was still in the car waiting for them. She had been mostly silent for the last few hours. She was present though, always present, and occasionally she'd squeeze his shoulder or rub his back. She seemed to instinctively know when Sam needed that extra boost, but she knew how to stay in the background, not getting between the Winchester men.

This time, though, it didn't really help. Sam was completely focused on the demon and clouded with thoughts of revenge.

"He's gone." Her voice was quiet.

Sam looked into Jen's eyes. Her certainty was apparent. He tried to protest, even knowing the futility. "But …"

"You wouldn't have reached him."

Tears filled Sam's eyes. He knew she was right. He blinked the tears away and got in the car, slamming the door. He certainly didn't need to let her know she was right.

Jen got in the back and Dean turned over the engine. "We're going back to wait for Dad."

_Whatever_. Sam thought. _Dean fucked it up, let Dean work it out._ The ride back to the motel was silent.


	19. Devil's Trap

Dean was pretty sure that the arrival of the distraught looking trio was enough to make Bobby Singer forget whatever ill feelings he had toward John Winchester and usher everybody inside to get the story.

Dean and Sam talked, Jen was quiet. She almost seemed nervous to Dean, and that made him nervous. Jen had never been less than perfectly confident in nearly every situation he'd seen her in. Of course, this wasn't like any situation they had been in before.

The story went quick and Bobby only asked pertinent questions. Once it was done, Bobby sat back a moment. "So, I guess we need a plan to catch a demon." He said.

That statement sounded so unbelievable, that suddenly the probable hopelessness of the whole situation seemed to hit Dean hard and in the chest. It was almost as if he couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to do. He bit his lip and looked around, feeling suddenly claustrophobic inside.

"I'm gonna, um, get some air. Be right back." Dean escaped out to the porch. The cool air felt good and he sank onto the steps, head down on his knees. "Fuck." He said to the silence of the broken cars around him.

He was startled suddenly when someone sat behind him. He didn't look up right away and felt a gentle touch on his back. He knew it was Jen. Sam was right; she really can sneak up on a person. Even a well-trained Winchester.

"John's still alive." Jen said quietly.

Dean could feel the tears in his eyes, but he looked up at her anyway. "How can you know?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Some things, I just know." Jen spoke with absolutely certainty, as she looked Dean straight in the eyes. She reached over to take his hand and he squeezed her hand back tightly. From her grip, he could almost feel her confidence flow into him. Soon, Dean felt like he could face the situation again, and face Sam.

He gave Jen's hand one final squeeze. "Thanks." He knew that wasn't enough for what she had done for him, but he couldn't find any other words.

Jen's face remained still, but her eyes sparkled. "Any time."

The two went inside to set a trap to catch a demon.

* * *

After creating an excellent story for the EMTs about the girl they found in the woods, Bobby was left with just Jen. She had opted to stay instead of go with Winchesters on what would hopefully be a final attack on the demon who had so altered their lives. He could see why she wouldn't want to go, or at least why she would choose to allow the family to face their foe on their own. Still, she was someone new, and as a seasoned hunter, he knew better than to take anyone at face value. He looked at her still standing near the door with him.

"You drink beer?"

She smiled. "Right now, definitely."

"Well, have a seat, I'll rustle some up."

Bobby went back to the kitchen and grabbed two beers which he flipped open. He then took his flask of holy water and added a small amount to both bottles. There have been a few too many demons lately; he may as well be sure of her himself.

He came back out to find her sitting at his kitchen table. He handed her a bottle.

"Thanks."

She tips back the bottle and takes a long sip. Not afraid of beer, that's a good start. Bobby tried to read what he could from her expression and demeanor. He was getting very little. He read nothing from her smile or from her posture except confidence. There was something about her eyes that kept drawing him in, but he felt completely comfortable in her presence. Bobby didn't like that. Being too comfortable was bad for hunting. He decided to get her talking instead.

"So, Sam says you met at school?"

"Yes, orientation, and we were actually living together for the last few months, and I was good friends with his girlfriend Jess."

Bobby remembered they had mentioned Jess, killed the same way as Mary. "The one who died?"

"Yeah."

Bobby wanted to be blunt with that, but Jen looked appropriately sad and nostalgic. Talking around the subject wasn't working. Bobby went for the direct approach.

"And how did you learn about huntin'?"

Jen's demeanor changed suddenly. She straightened and looked Bobby in the eyes, solidly but still without expression. She picked up her beer and took a very long sip. Then she slowly brought the bottle back down and started talking.

"Bobby, I can tell that you are a smart guy. The boys basically told me as such, but a hunter doesn't get along as well as you without some serious smarts and good hunk of common sense, so I'm not going to lie to you." She paused.

Now, that was what Bobby was expecting, something more than the sweet, mild-mannered girl he had seen so far. He could tell though that whatever her deal was, it was not going to be easy to find out.

"But?" Bobby interjected.

Jen smiled.

"But," she continued, "I also can't tell you the whole story yet. I'm not a demon. I'm pretty sure you already know that since I suspect this drink is spiked with Holy Water, I would expect nothing less. But I am more than I appear. Here's what I can tell you. I know what's out there and I've known my whole life. This wasn't something I chose, but something I was meant to do. I have the highest respect for all living things and wouldn't hurt a soul. My highest mission right now is to help and protect those two boys in any way that I am able."

Bobby believed what she said, more or less. Nothing in her movements led him to believe that she was lying and her eye contact with him was steady. However, he had never heard of anyone like this, and he was wary of hunters he had never heard of. There was also one small thing that was bothering him about what she just said.

"Then why are you in here with me instead of out there between them and that demon?"

"I said in any way that I am able, and I am limited. I also know that for a mission like the one they are going on, I'm a liability. I may be able to take care of myself and Sam and Dean, but in their minds, I am someone that needs protecting, and I can't ask them to make a choice between me and family. This is their fight. I have to wait and see where it takes them."

Bobby finished his beer and stared at Jen for a long time. She maintained eye contact with him.

"You are something else, aren't ya? I'm not sure sure who or what yet, but you're definitely more than you seem. However, I believe you are telling me the truth. From what little I've seen, I also believe that you are important to Sam and Dean. They don't act that way around just anybody, and Dean especially has good instincts."

Jen chuckled, and Bobby looked at her questioning the humor. She smiled at him. "Yes, Dean has excellent instincts. In fact, he and I had one of these conversations as well."

Bobby could see Dean cornering Jen, and her staring him down like she was doing to him. It was no wonder she was still with them.

"Well, all right. For now, you are clear, but any funny business, and you are right out that door."

Jen nodded. "All right, you have a deal. I can earn my keep, by the way. I have some seriously underused cooking skills."

Bobby suddenly began really liking the idea of having a woman around his house again. There was just one more think he wanted to test her on. "Another beer?"

"I would like that."

Well. She passed that with flying colors.

"Good. I like a girl who can hold her liquor."

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks for getting to the end of Season 1 with me! I'm planning to start Season 2 in a whole new document, but it should be easy to spot and it will be called "It Was the Year of Great Sadness" (bonus points if you know where these titles are coming from). Next week in In My Time of Dying there will be a major reveal, so you won't want to miss it! Please remember to review and/or throw thoughts my way. Thanks so much again!**


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